


Suit Up!

by ChillieBean



Series: Suit Up! [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fake-Out Make-Out, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, M/M, OCs as Plot Devices, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Shimada bros are bros, Suit Kink, Swearing, Team as Family, Undercover Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 18:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15346041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: After decrypting a Talon message saying that councilmember Maximilien will be present at a Monte Carlo Fashion Week runway show, much to Overwatch’s surprise, Jesse and Hanzo are sent in undercover to investigate....And what better cover is there than to go in as a married couple?





	1. A Little Friendly Competition

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to Suit Up!!
> 
> This is one my McHanzo Reverse Bang entries I've had the pleasure of working on over the last few months. Working with my artist, Nurt, has been an absolute pleasure. We share a lot of the same headcanons, and there is as much of Nurt in this story as me, and we are both incredibly happy and proud of how it turned out.
> 
> Writing a Fake/Pretend Relationship has been on my list for forever, back in the day when I used to write FF in my teenage years. Nurt gave me the perfect idea with her art, and I am eternally grateful to her for finally conquering this idea. 
> 
> EDIT! Fic now features the art!! Go check it out and give Nurt all of the likes and reblogs because seriously it's amazing!
> 
> Constructive criticism as always is welcome. 
> 
> As always, the biggest of thanks to Magisey for betaing ❤
> 
> And without further ado, I hope you do enjoy this fic.

_Bang._

The smell of gunpowder and sweat mingles on the salt air. Crouched behind a corner, Hanzo wipes the sweat on his brow with the sleeve of his gi, keeping an ear out for McCree. He listens for McCree’s usually loud footsteps, the jingle of his spurs, but when McCree wants to be quiet, he can be absolutely, astoundingly silent.

Arrow drawn loosely, Hanzo takes a moment to close his eyes and still his breathing, listening for _anything_ which would tell him of McCree’s whereabouts. He hears a soft creak over his right shoulder, and almost instantly stands, holds the bow and arrow in one hand as he climbs the wall to the catwalk before crouching down and nocking the arrow again.

McCree appears from behind the corner, gun drawn at Hanzo’s previous spot. A subtle frown teases his face before being replaced with a confident grin. “I know you’re close, Shimada,” McCree’s calls, almost teasingly. “Can’t hide forever.”

Staying as close to the wall as he can, Hanzo watches McCree walk below him. Hanzo has learned never to underestimate Jesse McCree, that even though everything about him is loud—his voice, his clothes, his boots—he is dangerous, deadly. He stands tall, walks with a confident swagger, something only reserved for the field of battle. Hanzo has seen it countless times, now.

Hanzo draws his arrow when McCree walks under the catwalk. He does not move, though, makes no attempt to loose the arrow. When it comes time for Hanzo to confront him, it will be face-to-face. Instead, Hanzo just watches McCree until he disappears around another corner.

Hanzo lessens the tension on the bow slightly, enough that he can run along the catwalk and to the other side—

_Bang._

Hanzo rolls to cover, pressing his back to the wall. He curses, scolds himself for being careless, for being seen by the enemy.

“You can run, but you can't hide,” McCree's calls out; his words burn like salt in a wound.

Hanzo grimaces at the sudden echo of McCree's footsteps. He is confident, sure of his victory. But what he does not know is that will be his downfall.

Closing his eyes and timing McCree's footsteps with his breathing, Hanzo waits until McCree is directly underneath him. Hanzo knows the entrance underneath the catwalk leads to a set of stairs that he is currently sitting at the top of. He also knows that McCree will expect him to drop from the catwalk and ambush him from behind.

Instead, the second Hanzo knows McCree is in the stairwell, he draws the arrow once more, rushes for the stairs and is startled, seeing McCree at the entrance, gun drawn and grin on his face.

“Bang,” Jesse says with the waggle of his eyebrows, pressing the muzzle to Hanzo's bare chest lightly for good measure.

Hanzo rolls his eyes, lessens the tension on the bow and slides the training arrow into his quiver.

“What? No ‘congratulations, you finally got me’?” Jesse asks, making a show to blow non-existent smoke from the muzzle of his gun before twirling it on his finger and sliding it into his holster. Hanzo looks on unimpressed, single eyebrow raised. “Aww, come on, this has been nearly _two years_ in the making. I finally beat _another_ Shimada ninja.”

Breaking into the smile he can no longer contain, Hanzo slings the bow over his other shoulder. “Congratulations,” he says, extending his hand.

“Thankin’ ya kindly,” Jesse says with a wink, taking Hanzo's hand and shaking it with exuberance. “You wanna know how I did it?”

“So I know how to beat you next time we duel?”

“You played into my overconfidence,” Jesse continues, ignoring Hanzo's raised eyebrow. “Thought you had the win ‘cause I made myself known. Then you thought that I'd spring you if you dropped down, so you took the other route.” Jesse gestures to the stairwell with the wave of his hand. “Weren't expectin’ me to come up this way.”

“I severely underestimated your stride, how many steps you can climb in one go with those long legs of yours.”

Jesse smirks, kicks out his leg, the one with the kneepad. “Guess they are kind of long, hey?”

Hanzo analyses Jesse's leg, eyes trailing from his boot, right up to his hip. His eyes fall slightly, enjoying the fact that this particular pair of jeans that Jesse is wearing hug his upper thighs. He lingers there for probably a moment too long, his eyes snap to meet Jesse's when he clears his throat and his boot falls to the ground. “Now that I know your strategy, I will be sure that you remain with only one win.”

“Another downfall of yours, Mr. Shimada,” Jesse starts, winking, “is you assume I'll be using the same strategy next time.”

Hanzo only hums, follows behind Jesse down the stairs and back onto the training range. “I suppose the countless hours of chess we play has proven that you are a formidable opponent who utilises unpredictability to win.”

“Unpredictability is what's kept me alive this long,” Jesse says, pulling an arrow from one of the training dummies. He turns, waving as he speaks, “Y’might learn a thing or two from me and my strategies.”

“You beat me _once_ ,” Hanzo says, grinning as he takes the arrow from Jesse, “and you assume I can learn from _you_? You might be unpredictable but I have watched you on the battlefield, on missions. You have your tells, like the fact you grin when you are frustrated.”

“I'm a cheerful guy.”

Hanzo takes a step forward. “Or the way your fingers curl ever so slightly just before you pull your gun from its holster.”

“Itchy trigger finger.”

Another step forward, his chest barely an inch away from Jesse’s. He looks up at him, smirk on his face and eyebrow raised. “ _Or_ the way your gait changes when you know you have won.”

Jesse opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it and grins. “You checkin’ out my ass when we're out there?”

“Please,” Hanzo says with the roll of his eyes, turning away from Jesse as he feels the heat creep up to his face. He ignores Jesse's chuckle, the fact he can _hear_ that confident swagger in his steps and collects the rest of his arrows in silence.

* * *

"Jesse told me that he beat you at the training range today."

Hanzo casts a scowl at Genji as he slides into the chair beside him, ignoring his smug grin and turning his attention back to the conference table. "It was merely a gamble, and I lost."

"That is not what he is saying."

Hanzo looks at Genji, folding his arms across his chest. "What _is_ he saying?"

"Said you got so distracted from looking at his ass that he won."

"I was not—" Hanzo grabs Genji by the scruff of his hoodie and pulls him in close. He looks around the room, giving Dr. Ziegler and Commander Winston a bow of his head in apology for interrupting their conversation as he takes his hand back. He waits until their eyes are no longer on him before continuing. " _I was not looking at his ass,_ ” Hanzo whispers in Japanese. " _I made an error of judgement, assumed that he was anticipating that I would drop from the catwalk, but instead he raced up the stairs and got to me first._ "

" _With those long legs of his?_ " Genji grins.

Hanzo inhales slowly, sitting back in his seat. " _Does he tell you everything?_ "

"Yep," Genji says, rolling his chair up to the table. “ _I’ve been telling you for weeks now, everytime we speak it’s ‘Hanzo this’ or ‘Hanzo that’. He will not stop talking about you, and frankly, it is getting annoying because you do nothing but talk about him._ ”

“ _I do not talk about him._ ”

Genji looks at Hanzo deadpan. “ _You told me how you bumped into him when doing your laundry the other day. You constantly ask if he is around because you can smell stale smoke. You talk about him a lot, brother, and I am getting sick of being the third wheel because you will not act, even though I have told you_ both _to do something about it._ ”

“ _You think I have feelings for him?_ ” Hanzo scoffs. _“He is an agent, I would protect him with my life, as I would any other Overwatch agent._ ”

“ _You just keep lying to yourself, Hanzo. He likes you, more than you know._ ” Genji takes a breath, a smirk creeps on his lips. _“You should take him out for a drink, I am sure he would like it.”_

Hanzo looks at his hands, laying one flat on top of the other on the table. He and Jesse are friends. Good friends, if Hanzo is being truthful. Jesse is a formidable opponent on the training range, they share similar tastes in movies and alcoholic beverages, and have been known to smoke cigars together upon the completion of a successful mission. Hanzo does enjoy Jesse’s company, and to say he has not thought about pursuing him romantically would also be a lie, but given how risky their jobs are, the last thing he needs is to get emotionally invested and lose him. The pain would be too much to bear, and he knows he would stop at nothing to avenge him.

He is drawn from his depressing thoughts by Genji, who is tapping his hands lightly on the table to some tuneless beat; made all the more louder with his mechanical fingers on the glass tabletop. It interrupts Dr. Ziegler's conversation again, she does a double-take and gives Genji a hard stare.

“Sorry,” he mutters, placing his hands in his lap. Dr. Ziegler gives a nod before going back to her conversation.

Hanzo hears Jesse's footsteps, the mirth of his chuckle before he even enters the room, walking in with Commander Amari and Agent Pharah. Hanzo gives the trio the bow of his head when they look at him, and Jesse takes the seat directly opposite him.

"Howdy," Jesse says with the tip of his hat. "Hope you weren't waitin' long."

"Not too long, no," Hanzo answers. He taps at his tablet with his index finger, it comes out of standby and he looks at the time. With a quiet chuckle, he looks back at Jesse; his statement is irrelevant considering Jesse still arrived five minutes early for their appointed meeting time of 17:00 hours.

"Good." Jesse adjusts in his seat, looks at the tablet in front of him and taps away at it.

Hanzo casts his eyes over to Commander Winston as he concludes his conversation with Dr. Ziegler before turning his attention to Commander Amari at the head of the table. They speak quietly between themselves, no doubt discussing the logistics of this upcoming mission. He looks around the room, it seems Agent Tracer is the only person yet to arrive.

"Hey, Doc," Jesse says, turning to Dr. Ziegler who is looking at her tablet. She looks up, notices the frown on his face and gives him her full attention. "I must've been a bit rough with training today, got an ache in my knee."

Dr. Ziegler nods slowly, glances at Hanzo with a subtle frown of her own as if to blame him before turning to face Jesse fully. “Roll up your pants leg.”

“Good thing I’m in my sweats,” Jesse chuckles, rolling up the sweatpants up to above his knee. Unhelpfully, Hanzo’s mind supplies him of Jesse in his jeans, having to take them off for this examination. He wonders if Jesse would actually have stood up and—no, he is going to stop that thought before it continues. Instead, he turns his full attention to Dr. Ziegler, watching as she places one hand on Jesse's calf, gently guiding his leg to straight. He tells himself that it is not weird that he is watching, that he has a semi-vested interest, considering he was present when this injury supposedly happened. Thankfully, it does not appear that Jesse’s leg appears swollen in any way.

"What exactly did you do?" Dr. Ziegler asks.

"Just the usual, doc," Jesse starts, glancing at Hanzo and winking. For whatever reason, Hanzo looks away in embarrassment, like he got caught witnessing something sordid. Feeling his face flush, he foolishly glances at Genji who has the biggest grin on his face. "Got in a bit of time with the bots before Hanzo an’ I had ourselves a little friendly competition,” Jesse continues. Hanzo looks up in time to see Jesse looking at him, winking _again_ when their eyes meet. “Must've twisted it funny."

"Perhaps when you climbed those stairs to beat me," Hanzo says with an air of playful condescension.

"Maybe," Jesse says with a grin. "Worth it to finally say I beat you, though." Jesse winces. “Okay, that hurt,” he breathes when Dr. Ziegler seems to apply pressure with her fingertips to his calf.

“Serves you right for your gloating,” Hanzo says with a smirk, offering his own wink when Jesse looks up at him. Jesse places a hand over his heart and leans back slightly, mocking bruised pride.

“Sorry I’m late!” Agent Tracer announces from the doorway. She takes a seat next to Hanzo, leaning over and whispering, “He hurt himself again?”

“When he bested me at the range,” Hanzo replies.

“He beat you?! How?”

“I’ll fill you in later!” Genji replies before Hanzo can.

"Well there is no swelling,” Dr. Ziegler says, “so I would conclude that you have just pulled a muscle.” She sits back in her seat. “Ice and ibuprofen, and plenty of stretches. We need you at peak performance for this upcoming mission."

"And on that note," Winston interjects, standing at the head of the table. He adjusts his glasses, looks down at the tablet in his hands before swiping upwards, projecting the image of the map of Monaco from the holounit built into the conference table. Beside it, a picture of a line of hotels facing the Mediterranean Sea is displayed, and Hanzo focuses on the historical architecture on the buildings which are still in use. It looks like a beautiful city, and he wishes he were going there under different circumstances.

"Two days ago, Athena intercepted some encrypted chatter indicating a Talon operation will be going down in Monaco. It took some time, but we have decrypted it and we believe that Talon councilmember Maximilien is meeting with Matteo Rinaldi in Monte Carlo, three days from now." An image of a man is then projected. In profile, he is thin, middle-aged, and has dark, slick backed hair. He does not appear to have any resounding identifying features, not from this image, anyway.

“What do we know about him?” Jesse asks, leaning forward and resting his closed hand on his cheek, eyes narrowed as he studies the image.

“Heir to the Rinaldi empire,” Winston starts, “he owns the Rinaldi chain of hotels in Italy and Monaco. He has branched out into the casino world, opening the first Rinaldi hotel-casino in Monte Carlo four years ago, which has proven quite popular.” Winston pauses as Rinaldi’s picture shrinks in size as a flier for the Monte Carlo Fashion Show is projected. “He has ties with Monte Carlo’s fashion week, and this year will be hosting his first event. This is where we expect the meeting to take place.”

“Is he dirty?” Hanzo asks, looking from the flier to Winston.

“We suspect he also has ties to organised crime in Monaco, and apparently Interpol is building up a case of racketeering and money laundering through his hotel chains. But that is an issue for Interpol, not us.”

Hanzo nods slowly, understanding quite intimately the intricacies of such tasks. If Rinaldi’s empire is anything like how the clan was run, then any and all evidence obtained would be pinpointed to one of his lieutenants, not Rinaldi himself.

Jesse leans back in his seat, taps the table with his mechanical hand as he looks at Winston. “So what do you want us to do, boss?”

“Following standard undercover mission protocols, both you and Hanzo will be attending the fashion show, keeping an eye on Maximilien and Rinaldi.”

Jesse looks at Hanzo and grins. "So Hanzo’s my plus one, huh?"

Hanzo meets Jesse with a matching grin. "I will have your back, gunslinger."

"That so, archer?" Jesse says with a wink, before turning his attention to Winston. “So. What's our cover?"

Winston chuckles a little nervously, and it sends Hanzo on edge. The first thought he has is that he is to take to the runway himself, and immediately shudders. Then the rational part of his brain kicks in, and he realises that if he is to watch Maximilien and Rinaldi from a distance, it would be impossible to achieve if going undercover as a model.

Ultimately, Hanzo knows next to nothing about fashion shows. He never took an interest in them; they were more suited to Genji's tastes. He supposes that Jesse has no interest in them, either, and perhaps knows even less than Hanzo does. Having said all that, it would take no time to research today's current fashions, attend the show with a keen interest. He assumes that he would be going in as a designer, or something of the like. Jesse though—

"We think the best option is for Hanzo to be a buyer," Winston answers. He looks at his tablet, taps at it then swipes his hand up, the two previous images disappear and are replaced with a fashion designer website.

Hanzo’s tablet flashes with a notification, and he unlocks it, seeing a bio for one Nakayama Reo, buyer for boutique men’s suit store ‘Zeitaku’. Hanzo quickly reads the bio; the real-life store is located in Tokyo, specialising in European designs. Reo spends most of his time in Europe and America, and is invited to this fashion show to see the latest fashions from up-and-coming designers. Considering Reo works outside of Tokyo, this is the perfect cover. "I had assumed as much," Hanzo says, looking at Winston. "And McCree? My business associate?” He looks at Jesse and smirks. “Apprentice, perhaps?"

"Hey, apprentice is a bold word," Jesse retorts. "Designer associate, absolutely."

Fareeha laughs, elbowing Jesse's side. "'Designer associate’?"

"Well whatever," Jesse brushes off. "Just don't send me in as an apprentice,” Jesse brings his hands together in front of him in mock prayer, “please, Winston."

Another nervous chuckle, and Winston's coughing lightly into his fist. He looks at Commander Amari and nods. Hanzo narrows his eyes; whatever they have planned, it will not be good.

Ana looks between the Hanzo and Jesse, a small grin on her face. “Hanzo has the knowledge to forge a competent cover as an actual fashion buyer. You," she looks at Jesse up and down, smirk teasing her lips, "you wouldn't know good fashion if it hit you in the face."

"Hey,” Jesse starts, leaning forward and pointing a finger at Ana, “I got a look and I rock that look, thank you very much." He glances at Hanzo, and he offers a smile and a nod; Jesse does look good in what he wears. Jesse holds the stare for a moment before breaking it and looking at the table. If Hanzo had to guess, he appears bashful; something he has not seen on Jesse before.

"Of course you do, darling,” Ana says playfully, akin to a mother talking to their child. “Since you have an excellent journalist cover, you will be going in as Joel Morricone. That way you can also talk to people without arousing suspicion.”

“Sounds good,” Jesse says with an air of scepticism. “So what’s the catch?”

“You will be going in as partners."

“Partners?” Jesse repeats, eyes narrowed.

With a chuckle, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out two rings, holding one in each hand between thumb and forefinger. Both are matte black, and appear plain with no obvious stone. "Husbands."

Hanzo inhales and exhales deeply, looking at Jesse, whose jaw is hanging slack. "You want us,” Jesse starts, pointing between himself and Hanzo, “to go in, undercover, as a _married couple_?"

"It will allow you to be in close proximity to each other without drawing attention to yourselves,” Ana explains.

Hanzo looks on in full disbelief, wondering _how_ he is supposed to pretend to be married to Jesse. He has been asked to do many things in his life: Assassinate people who were just as skilled as he. Go into situations where the odds of making it out alive were slim to none. Research the most useless facts—something he will be doing for this mission no doubt—to cultivate the perfect persona. But _this_? To go undercover and pretend the person he might have feelings for is his husband? This is asking too much.

"You have spooked him," Genji says, tone somewhat mocking beside him. It is enough to draw Hanzo from his thoughts, to realise he was indeed shaking his head and staring at Jesse. He looks around the room, and everyone's eyes are on him.

"I am not spooked," Hanzo says defensively. "I was merely trying to figure out the logistics of how I would even undertake such a task."

"Well there is hand-holding," Genji starts, extending a finger, "kissing, butt-grabbing since you have a fixation—" Hanzo elbows Genji in the ribs, making sure he stops _th_ _at_ train of thought. Thankfully it works, though he looks at Hanzo with a smug grin on his face, like the elbowing proved that point.

"He's got a point," Fareeha says, looking just as amused. "It's not hard, pretending to be married. I mean, the two of you bicker like an old married couple already, so you've got that down."

“Then there’s the _shameless_ flirting,” Lena adds. Genji nods in agreeance, extending an arm out in her direction.

“It ain’t flirting,” Jesse barks. “Just being friendly.” Hanzo nods, glad that at least Jesse is taking his side that going in as a married couple is a bad idea.

“You winked at Hanzo _three times_ in the ten minutes we’ve been in here,” Genji exclaims. “You don’t wink at anyone _except_ for Hanzo.”

Jesse opens his mouth as if to speak, but leaves it hanging open for a moment as his eyes snap to meet Hanzo’s. Hanzo only shrugs slightly, it is not like he has noticed the winking. Well... It is true, there were the three times here, then on the training range, at breakfast, yesterday morning at breakfast—then, like a window shattering, it all becomes blindingly obvious—

“All right,” Jesse says quickly, looking at Ana. “We got each other’s backs, we know how the other works, their tells.” Hanzo nods in agreement, this is the obvious reason as to why they have been partnered on this mission. It is not some sick, twisted means to get them together. Surely. “What do you need us to do?”

Winston looks back at his tablet, taps at it and another notification pops up on Hanzo’s. It seems everyone got this one, as everyone also turns their attention to their tablets. “Maximilien is attending a public meeting outside of Monte Carlo Casino and therefore away from Talon security; it is a rare opportunity and something we must capitalise on. The mission is to watch and listen, see if you can get any intel on the meeting itself. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Regardless of the criminal ties to the event, there will be civilians present. Their safety is of the utmost importance.”

“Got it,” Jesse breathes, nodding. He looks at Hanzo for the faintest moment before turning his attention back to the tablet.

“You will have a day here to prepare,” Ana continues, “to head into town and get suits organised. Julian has been informed and has a few ideas in mind, he just needs your measurements. You’ll then have a day and a half in Monaco to get settled, you have a room booking at the hotel where the fashion show will be hosted, giving you access to the entertainment room prior to the show. As to not arouse suspicion, you will remain in Monaco an extra day before leaving.”

“Very well,” Hanzo breathes, clasping his hands on the table. He looks at Jesse who is still looking at his tablet, hand covering his mouth and frown on his face. He nods subtly, eyes tracking from left to right quickly as he speed-reads the brief.

“Okay,” Jesse says quickly as he leans back. He glances at Hanzo before looking at Ana. “I’m thinkin’ Hanzo and I should head into town now, get the ball rollin’ on the suits. Don’t need Julian givin’ us an earful cause he only has a day to alter them.”

“Good plan,” Winston responds, looking at his tablet briefly. “Genji and Lena will monitor the situation from a distance and provide backup if absolutely necessary, and Fareeha will be on the ground with Helix.” He looks at her. “Fareeha.”

“Helix has been contracted by Rinaldi to provide security for the event," Fareeha starts, standing. "We will have six agents on the ground, and two including myself watching the security feeds in the control room. I will do my best to keep an eye on Maximilien and Rinaldi, but Genji and Lena, you guys will be our eyes on them."

"Got it," Lena responds.

"We might not be able to do anything considering we were hired by Rinaldi," Fareeha continues, "but with Talon ties to the event, we will be on high alert. We will have open channels with you guys at all times on the night of the event. Hanzo and Jesse, Helix are aware you will be going in undercover, they have your cover details, and in the unlikely event of something going south, they will make sure you can do your jobs.”

"Sounds like a plan," Jesse replies, looking at Hanzo, and Hanzo nods. 

Fareeha stands at attention, giving Winston the floor, before taking a seat again.

“We’ll meet again at 10:30 hours before your scheduled departure of 11:00 hours the day after tomorrow," Winston says. "Any questions?” He glances around the room and when he is met with silence, he looks at Ana, who just shakes her head. “Okay, you are dismissed.”

Picking up his tablet, Hanzo stands and pushes the chair in. Angela and Fareeha leave together, followed by Winston and Ana. Hanzo follows behind them, Genji by his side.

“Hey, Hanzo,” Jesse starts, and Hanzo turns around. Genji nudges his shoulder against Hanzo’s, wiggles his eyebrows before leaving the room with Lena, and Hanzo cannot help the eye roll as he turns to Jesse. “You’re okay headin’ into town now?” he asks, standing up and grabbing his tablet.

“Yes. I do not have any other plans for this evening.”

“Good,” Jesse says, nodding. “Shouldn’t take too long in any case, but maybe afterwards, we can grab a coffee and discuss the logistics of the mission?”

A small smile teases Hanzo’s lips, and he quickly suppresses it. “Of course.”

“All right. Let’s suit up!”

* * *

 A day,” Julian huffs, pulling the measuring tape draping his neck. “You are lucky I am not busy.”

“Havin’ you on retainer also helps,” Jesse chuckles, shrugging his shoulders and relaxing, standing naturally in front of the mirror as Julian stands behind him.

“You pay well.”

“You know you’re our favourite person.”

“And my favourite person is the lovely Ms. Amari.” Julian smirks, looks at Jesse through the reflection in the mirror. He makes quick work of measuring Jesse, then looking at numbers scribbled on a piece of paper. Julian hums, looks at Jesse through the mirror again and smirks. “Someone is keeping in shape. Your measurements haven’t changed since the last time you were here, so I don’t have to alter what I have.”

“Oh, what _do_ you have?”

Julian wiggles his eyebrows as he steps away, heading into a back room. Jesse looks at Hanzo, equal parts curiosity and fear are written on his face. Hanzo shrugs, looks around the little shop which has not changed in the time he has been coming here. Every inch of wall space is covered with suits, shirts, ties and accessories. He makes a mental note to draw inspiration from Julian’s style when creating the backstory for Reo; specialising in classic looks injected with modern touches. His attention is drawn back to Julian when he returns with two suit bags, one in each hand.

“I assume you want classic as always, cowboy,” Julian says, handing the bag in his right hand over. Try this, if it fits you can take it with you today.” Jesse takes the bag and tips his hat before heading into one of the changing rooms. “You,” Julian starts, looking at Hanzo. “All I was told was you needed something current. Unlike the cowboy whose measurements fluctuate every time he comes here, I know your measurements will be the same as last time—”

“Y’know I can hear you, right?” Jesse calls from behind the curtain.

“Mr. Shimada has been coming here for almost two years now, and his measurements have not changed once.” Julian looks at Hanzo, giving him a good once-over. “I can tell that his measurements will be the same just looking at him.” He pauses, seemingly to give Jesse an opportunity to answer, and when a retort does not happen, Julian looks back at Hanzo. “This will need amending, and I will take your measurements just to be safe, but it is the latest fashion.”

“Very well,” Hanzo says, standing tall and drawing his shoulders back so Julian can take his measurements. All he hears from behind him is humming as Julian quickly measures his shoulders, his chest, then his waist.

“Ooooh, nice touches with the brass, Julian,” Jesse calls from the change room. It's piqued Hanzo's interest, painting a picture in his mind of a solid black suit with brass buttons. A favourite aesthetic outside the classic black and blue he used to favour.

“Just as I suspected,” Julian mumbles, picking up the suit bag and handing it to Hanzo. “Try this on, let me know what you think.”

With the bow of his head, Hanzo heads into the second change room, closing the curtain behind him. Hanging the bag on the hook, he unzips it, revealing a light grey three-piece suit. Not a colour he would normally wear, which he supposes is a good thing considering this is a cover, he slides the jacket away from the waistcoat—or at least he tries to, but they seem to be attached. Getting a closer look at it, it is, in fact, one piece; it has the appearance of an open jacket and a buttoned-up waistcoat. The design can definitely be described as modern, and despite it being something so unusual, Hanzo actually loves it.

With eager anticipation, he undoes the buttons on the jacket and slides it on. Now that he is wearing it, it looks quite good. The colour does not look too bad, and even though the jacket has a high collar, the suit in combination with his collared shirt ties it back to the roots of a classic suit.

He looks at the accompanying tie, black and white diagonal striped, before pulling out his silken blue seigaiha tie, looking between the two and opting for the seigaiha one. He hangs the striped one back on the hook and drapes the blue one around his neck, tying a Windsor knot. Smoothing the tie and shirt down, he finally buttons up the jacket, nodding in approval of the look.

Turning his attention to the matching pants, a part of Hanzo is somewhat relieved that they are a standard pair of pants. Toeing off his dress shoes and sliding off his jeans, Hanzo folds them neatly over the chair in the corner. He puts on the pants, then his shoes and looks at himself in the mirror. The suit fits perfectly in the shoulders, but it is on the bigger side in the waist; something that will need to be taken in so it takes on a fitted appearance. Pulling at the sides, easily an inch can be taken off both sides.

Smoothing his hands down the jacket and with a nod to his reflection, he opens the curtain and steps out, eyes settling on the back of Jesse, and just how that suit _hugs_ his figure. Hanzo has seen Jesse in suits before, on the rare occasions where they were required, and he looks good in them, but they have always been the typical, baggy American style suits to accommodate keeping Peacekeeper concealed around his waist.

This suit… Hanzo cannot tear his eyes away from the fact that Jesse actually has a figure; something he _always_ keeps hidden behind his shirts, chest plate and serape, or a baggy t-shirt when in the gym. Hanzo had suspected that his waist was narrower, though, given how broad his shoulders are. Jesse should have been wearing Italian style suits from the beginning, not hiding behind a sack.

“What do you think, Mr. Shimada?” Julian asks, appearing beside him. It takes more willpower than required to look at Julian.

“Good, thank you,” Hanzo breathes, voice a little higher pitched than normal. He clears his throat as Jesse turns around, and if there was a heaven, Hanzo would be there. His eyes rake up and down Jesse’s body, taking in the fitted solid espresso coloured suit, the accompanying waistcoat, the brass in the buttons and the matching tie. Hanzo has to practically pick his jaw off the floor when Jesse takes a step forward, eyes snapping to meet his.

“That good, huh?” Jesse says, chuckling.

“You clean up well,” Hanzo says as nonchalant as he can, a failing attempt to recover from this situation.

“Okay, but,” Jesse starts, standing up straight and drawing his shoulders back, “hat?” He holds the stance for a moment before taking it off, combing his fingers through his hair and pulling it back. “Or no hat?”

Hanzo tries to swallow the lump in his throat, notes how dry his mouth suddenly feels and ignores it as best he can. Jesse potentially going in _without_ his hat is something he had not considered, and now it is all he wants. “Considering we need to not draw attention to ourselves, no hat.”

“Damn, that’s what Julian said, too.”

“Why would you want to ruin a good suit with that awful hat of yours?” Julian chides. He looks at Hanzo, pulling at the waist of the suit.

“To hide my horrid hair,” Jesse retorts, combing back the stray locks which fell around his face. “But I guess we’ll have plenty of product for that,” he chuckles.

“You’ll want to shave that scruff off too,” Julian adds.

“Hold up now,” Jesse says quickly, placing his hat back on his head. “I’ve had this beard for over a decade, I’m not gonna shave it ‘cause it doesn’t go with the suit.”

“I have to agree with Julian,” Hanzo says, looking at Jesse. He cannot help the grin that bursts when Jesse places a hand over his heart.

“I thought you were my friend,” he says with a pout.

“What you have on your face is not a beard. _I_ have a beard. _You_ have scruff.”

“Yeah, well, it ain’t gonna happen,” Jesse says, taking a good look at Hanzo when Julian steps away. He scrunches his face, reaches out and places his hands on Hanzo’s waist, and time just about stands still. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, hear his pulse in his ears and his stomach is doing flips. He looks up at Jesse when he chuckles, noticing the devilish grin on his face. “At least _I’m_ wearin’ a proper suit. This looks like Julian went toe to toe with the sewing machine and lost.”

“It is the latest fashion out of Italy. When I got the call from the lovely Ms. Amari, she said she needed Hanzo in something current, modern.”

Hanzo takes a breath and holds it as Jesse tugs at the jacket for good measure in a futile attempt to open it, before running his index fingers along the stitching joining the two pieces slowly. He cannot help it, but he studies Jesse’s face, noting the light dusting of freckles on his cheeks and nose which had previously gone unnoticed on his tanned skin, the fact that the wrinkles between his brows which accompany his frown actually run deeper than they look from a distance.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Jesse says eventually, frown easing as he gives the suit one last look before taking a step back. “Looks good on you, Hanzo.”

Hanzo swallows around the lump in his throat and nods, turning his attention back to Julian when he walks over, paper and pencil in his hand.

“I can have this done for you by tomorrow morning.”

“Of course,” Hanzo replies meekly.

“And you, cowboy, if you don’t have any problems, you can take that with you now.”

“It’s a little tighter than I'm used to, but it should be fine,” Jesse says, smoothing down the jacket at his waist, and Hanzo has the urge to reach out himself. He shakes his head, bites down on the inside of his cheek to snap himself back to reality. “What do you reckon, Hanzo? Truthfully?”

“You look good. The colours complement your skin tone, it is a good mix of classic and modern.” Hanzo pauses, looks Jesse up and down one more time even though he tries to stop himself, and adds, “You look…” _Attractive. Hot_ , his mind unhelpfully supplies. He ignores that, settles with the milder, “Very nice,” to complete his statement and instantly hates it.

Jesse smiles, and actually breaks eye contact with Hanzo. It throws him back to the briefing, how Jesse behaved the same way. “Okay,” Jesse says, looking at Julian, “I’ll take it, then.” Even though he adjusts his hat to cover his face and keeps his head down, Hanzo can see the red staining his cheeks. “I’ll uh…” he points to the changeroom with finger guns as he takes a step towards it, “I’ll just get changed, then.”

With a smile he is unable to contain, Hanzo watches Jesse enter the room and disappear behind the curtain. He looks at Julian, who just shakes his head. “What did you think of _your_ suit? I am certain the distracted ‘good’ you gave me was directed to the cowboy.”

Hanzo can feel the heat creep up to his cheeks again, and waits for another of Jesse’s retorts. When the silence drags on a beat, Hanzo says, “It was directed to this suit. It is good, and aside from the adjustments you noted, I have no problems with it.”

Julian looks at the tie, straightening it. “Nice touch adding the seigaiha design. Makes it personal.” Hanzo nods, offers a smile. “The suit will be ready for you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Julian,” Hanzo says, bowing his head before heading for his changeroom. He closes the curtain, fusses with it to make sure no one can see in then falls backwards against the wall, head in his hands.

Remaining objective while going undercover as Jesse’s husband when he will be dressed like _that_ will probably be the most challenging task he has undertaken.

* * *

“Okay,” Jesse breathes, placing two mugs of coffee down on the table as he takes a seat. “Figured now’s a good time as any to get through the basics of the brief, see what we’re gettin’ ourselves into.”

Hanzo nods, wrapping his hands around his mug. He looks at the tablet, reading the intercepted message by Athena: _‘MCFW ㄫ MO D2 1900-2200’_ , followed by the deciphered transcript: _‘Monte Carlo Fashion Week; ㄫ - codename Maximilien; MO D2 Monday, day 2; 19:00 hours - 22:00 hours’. “‘_ At this time, Matteo Rinaldi will be present for the latest in men’s suit fashion. It will include a runway show and showcase some of the prominent up-and-coming designers Europe has to offer’,” Hanzo reads from the brief.

“Ain’t never been to a runway show,” Jesse says, frowning. “Hope it doesn’t go too long, I don’t think I’d be able to pretend to be interested in a bunch of guys walkin’ up and down a runway longer than a few minutes.”

“Traditionally, runway presentations only last ten to twenty minutes.”

“Y’don’t say,” Jesse responds, surprised. “Always figured they went on for hours.”

Hanzo smiles sheepishly. “Victoria’s Secret is an outlier.”

There is a brief moment of silence, a look of shock and confusion on Jesse’s face before he bursts out laughing. Infectious, Hanzo laughs along too.

“You watched ‘em too?” Jesse asks as his laughter subsides.

“Only because Genji made me.” He remembers it quite fondly, smiling wide. “We used to excuse ourselves early in the evening, feigning studying, but instead we watched the broadcast.” Hanzo chuckles at their yearly tradition. “Though to be honest, I was not interested.”

“Yeah, I used to watch it when I was a kid…” Jesse pauses, looks off in the distance with unfocused eyes; lost in a memory, Hanzo supposes. Suddenly, his eyes snap to meet Hanzo’s. “Used to watch it with the gang,” Jesse says quietly.

Hanzo leans in a little closer. Jesse has never talked about his past before, always deflecting the question whenever asked. All Hanzo really knows is that Jesse was born into the gang, like he was born into the clan; another similarity they share.

“They used to sit me down,” Jesse continues. “Tell me ‘manly men watch this, it’ll keep you straight’,” he chuckles. “I did enjoy it, but ah… guess you can say I also wasn’ interested. Preferred a more athletic build.” He looks at Hanzo and smiles, and Hanzo smiles back. He thinks about reaching out, touching Jesse’s hand as an acknowledgement of the trust he sees in him for sharing that glimpse into his past, but the opportunity disappears when Jesse clears his throat. “So if Rinaldi’s meeting Max for three hours, and the runway part could take, let’s say, thirty minutes, what’s going to happen in the remaining two-and-a-half?”

Hanzo sits up, wrapping his hands around his mug. “Networking, I would assume,” he says, bringing his cup up to his mouth and blowing on it. “Other designers mingling, perhaps a few other buyers would be present, expressing interested in products.” He takes a sip of coffee. “Journalists, too.” Hanzo’s eyes snap to Jesse’s when he has the realisation. “You have the perfect opportunity to talk to Rinaldi, actually.”

“That’s true,” Jesse says, picking his mug off the table and sitting back in his seat. “I’ll have to approach him when Max isn’t around. Other than that, we just blend in, keep an eye on the both of ‘em and make sure nothin’ shady happens.”

“The fact that they are meeting in a public place raises more questions.”

“Yeah, I was wonderin’ that too. Max might dress smart, but I’m sure he ain’t _that_ interested in suits, and a fashion show is most definitely not up Talon’s alley,” Jesse ponders, frowning. “Surely if they wanted to do whatever it was they’re doin’, they wouldn’t have announced it, and they wouldn’t do it with so many people close by.”

Hanzo hums, takes another sip of coffee. “Hiding in plain sight,” he muses. “Perhaps the reason is they think there is less likely to be intervention. No one of authority would interrupt the show unless absolutely necessary.” Hanzo pauses, looks over his shoulder when he hears footsteps enter the mess hall, seeing Genji walk in. Genji eyes the both of them, gives a lazy salute and heads into the kitchen. Hanzo looks at Jesse and shrugs. “Or perhaps it was just a genuine invitation to the show, and whatever they are meeting about will happen either before or after.”

“Also plausible,” Jesse acknowledges. He rubs his hand through his beard, pulling at the longer strands and hums. “So you seriously think I should shave?”

Hanzo shrugs. “You would not be identifiable if things were to go south.”

“How ‘bout you, then? You gonna shave?”

“Absolutely not,” Hanzo says quickly, shaking his head.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be identifiable with it, too.”

“I do not have a sixty million dollar bounty on my head.”

Jesse opens his mouth as if to retort, then closes it again. He frowns, takes a gulp of coffee before holding it close to his chest. “You’re lucky you don’t have that bridge piercing no more. Otherwise, I’ll be fighting tooth and nail for you to remove it.”

Hanzo nods, rubbing at the bridge of his nose with his index finger. A year after he got it, it started to migrate. Considering there was nothing that could be done to save it, he spared himself the pain of watching it push itself out of his skin and removed it. Now gone six months, the skin has completely healed. “A fair point,” Hanzo says eventually.

“Tell you what,” Jesse says, “why don’t we have ourselves a little friendly competition? You win, I shave the beard. I win, you shave off yours.”

Hanzo cannot help but grin, and there is no way he can turn down a challenge. “You think because you won once, gunslinger, that you can beat me again?”

“Only takes one time, archer,” Jesse says with a wink. “You got your tells too, I’ll have you know.”

Scoffing, Hanzo states, absolutely matter-of-fact, “I was disciplined in assassination. I assure you, I do not have tells.”

“You do.”

“What are they then?”

“If I told you, then you wouldn’t do them, and then how would I win?” Jesse asks, waggling his eyebrows and grinning.

Hanzo looks at Jesse through narrowed eyes, and without breaking eye contact, he calls out, “Genji!”

“Yo,” Genji says, approaching with a tub of yoghurt. He pulls out a seat and turns it, straddling it.

“Tell me, do I have any tells?” Hanzo asks, still looking at Jesse.

“If you had tells, you would be a poor assassin,” Genji says, a hint of amusement carrying on his voice.

Hanzo smirks, raises his eyebrow and gestures in Genji’s direction with the wave of his hand.

“Fine,” Jesse says dismissively with a shrug. “Don’t believe me. I’ll win tomorrow and you’ll have to shave off your beard.”  

“Think that all you want, but it is you who will be shaving off your beard—” Hanzo stops, looks at Genji, who bursts out laughing.

“You _have_ to let me know when this is happening!”

“Let’s make it… nine a.m.?” Jesse offers. “After breakfast.”

Hanzo nods and extends his hand. “I will see you on the training range, gunslinger.”

“Lookin’ forward to it, archer,” Jesse says, shaking Hanzo’s hand. He drinks the last of his coffee and stands, grabbing his tablet and holding it under his arm. “I'm gonna get me some good shut-eye so I’m refreshed for our competition tomorrow. ‘Night, boys.”

“Good night,” Hanzo says with the bow of his head.

“‘Night,” Genji says, watching Jesse walk into the kitchen and place his mug in the dishwasher before leaving. He turns to Hanzo, grinning from ear to ear. “ _I am going to do everything I can to make sure you win,_ ” he says in Japanese.

 _“I am surprised you are taking my side._ ”

“ _Between seeing you in pain or the cowman, I will always take your side._ ”

Hanzo huffs a laugh. “ _That is oddly nice of you._ ”

“ _You have not seen Jesse without his facial hair. He will hate it more than you._ ”

Hanzo chuckles, bringing his cup up to his lips and taking a gulp. “ _I would like to win via honourable means._ ”

“ _Fuck that. The cowman is right, if he beat you once, he can do it again._ ” Genji dips his spoon into his yoghurt, scooping the biggest possible dollop and shoving it in his mouth quickly.

“ _Thank you for your confidence,_ ” Hanzo says flatly, looking at the remnants of his coffee. He drinks the rest of it and stands.

 _“I have a_ need, _Hanzo.”_

Hanzo looks at Genji, smirk teasing his lips. _“Believe it or not, so do I._ ”


	2. The Grand Unveiling

There is an almost electric buzz in the air. The morning is warm, the gentle summer breeze carries on the water below and up the cliff. All of the inhabitants of Watchpoint: Gibraltar are looking down on the training range from the catwalk— _including_ Winston, Ana and Morrison, to Hanzo’s surprise.

Hanzo gives Storm Bow a final once-over, checking the tension of the string before analysing the length of the bow, from the upper limb to the lower limb. Content, he looks at Jesse on his left, who is checking over Peacekeeper meticulously, opening the cylinder and spinning it before flicking it back in place. He looks at Hanzo and waggles his eyebrows, Hanzo responds with a bow of his head.

Hanzo then turns his attention to all of the faces watching from above, they are all smiles and cheers, and he wrings his hand around the grip of the bow just that little bit tighter, closing his eyes and trying to push them out of his mind as he mentally prepares for the upcoming competition.

"They are rooting for Hanzo to win," Genji announces as he approaches.

"All of 'em?" Jesse asks, bewildered.

"Yep. Seems everyone wants to see you absent your beard."

Jesse looks up at everyone and they all cheer and clap. "Seems like they're rootin' for _me_ to win."

"They are just inflating your ego," Genji says cheekily. He turns his attention to Hanzo. "In reality, they want Hanzo to win."

"Well I'll be sure to wipe the floor with you, Shimada," Jesse says with a wink.

"Not if I beat you first, McCree."

"Okay," Genji calls, clapping his hands to draw the attention of the crowd. They go silent after a moment. "Rules of the bet: The first person to land a bullet or arrow in every training dummy wins. Loser has to shave their beard ahead of the Monaco mission.” Genji pauses when everyone erupts in cheering again, he holds his hands out to control them. When they go silent again, he looks between them and continues, “No special moves which allow you to land multiple targets at once are allowed." Genji places his hands on Hanzo's and Jesse's shoulders, and Hanzo extends his hand to Jesse.

"May the best man win."

"Oh, _he_ will," Jesse replies with a wink as he takes Hanzo's hand and shakes it.

"Sounds like it's on!" Genji exclaims. "I will count down from three, please do not shoot me as I make my way to safety." Hanzo huffs a little laugh as Jesse chuckles. "Okay. Three. Two. One. GO!"

Like an arrow that has been loosed, Hanzo sprints off to the eastern side of the range. He can hear Jesse's fading footsteps from behind him, and he eyes the first three dummies, plucking three arrows from his quiver to loose into them in quick succession. He rounds the corner, and looses arrows into those four. He continues on, firing arrows at dummies he sees and landing perfect headshots every time, until he reaches the mobile dummies, and his stomach nearly drops as each of them already have arrows in them. It takes Hanzo a moment to figure out what has happened, recalling his and Genji’s conversation from the night prior where Genji said he would go to any lengths to see Hanzo win. Shaking his head, Hanzo internally seethes at Genji and will pull him up on his less-than-honourable antics once the competition is over. In the meantime, he does plan on winning because there is no way he will be shaving his beard.

The sounds of quick gunshots echo from the distance, and after loosing arrows into the last of the training dummies, Hanzo runs back to the middle, hearing the cheers from everyone above when he enters their field of view. Hanzo swaps his quiver for the full one quickly before continuing on, looking at Jesse as he runs past.

"Shimada," Jesse says, slightly breathless.

"McCree," he replies with the bow of his head. The western side of the range contains the only access to the southern side, which houses ten more dummies than the eastern side. So the fact that Genji cheated on his behalf seems to not have mattered if they are crossing paths at the midway point. He loathes to admit it, but Genji cheating was perhaps a good thing.

Hanzo makes quick work of the thirty dummies on the western side of the range too, and with the remaining ten arrows in his quiver, he sprints to the southern side of the training range, where his stomach drops again. “Genji,” Hanzo growls,  seeing arrows in those dummies, too. Considering they also have bullet holes in them, Genji must have done this _after_ Jesse had been through here.

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Hanzo knows he cannot return with the arrows in his quiver. He listens out for Jesse's gunshots, and when it is clear he is still taking out the dummies on the eastern part of the range, Hanzo shoves the remaining arrows behind a fake bush and sprints back. He gets another cheer as he stands in front of the crowd, and more gunshots ring out in the distance before there is only silence.

He hears Jesse's footsteps before he sees him, and the look of shock and confusion on his face is somewhat heartbreaking, knowing he did not win honourably.

"How?"

Hanzo shrugs. "I am quick."

"Too quick. There's no way you did that without cheating. I'm sure of it."

" _I_ did not cheat," Hanzo says quickly. He thinks about telling him that Genji was behind this, that he is the reason why Hanzo won, but Hanzo really wants to see Jesse without his beard, even if that means living with his dishonour.

He could push for a rematch, order Genji to watch from above, but knowing his troublemaking brother, he is certain that Genji will just continue to cheat until Jesse concedes.

"If not you, then someone did."

"Hanzo won fair and square," comes Genji's smug reply as he approaches. "We can set up the targets again if you wish, but I am sure that everyone has seen enough of this and would like to get on with their day. _And_ I am sure they would be disappointed knowing that you lost and you are not going to shave your beard."

"Shave! Shave! Shave!" the crowd cheers, Hana’s voice unsurprisingly carrying over the others.

Jesse grumbles something under his breath that Hanzo cannot quite hear before looking at Genji. "I know you did somethin', you got that smug look about you."

A devilish smirk crosses Genji's face. "I'm just happy that I get to see you without your beard."

Jesse rolls his eyes and looks at Hanzo, extending a hand. "It seems the best man really did win."

Hanzo bows his head, shakes Jesse's hand. "You do not have to shave it all off, you can neaten it if you would like."

"No, Hanzo, he has to shave _all_ of it off. There is not to be a single hair left on his face!"

With a huff, Jesse looks at Genji through narrowed eyes before standing up straight. "Fine. Guess I'll go and shave." He combs his fingers through the longer parts on his chin almost longingly. "Gonna miss you, girl," he says to himself.

"You are disgusting," Genji says, wrinkling his nose.

"You're just jealous 'cause you can't grow a beard."

"I can, I choose not to."

"A'ight, whatever you say, _cyborg_." Jesse turns to Hanzo. "Want a hand collectin' your arrows?"

"No," Hanzo says quickly. He is convinced that Jesse will take one look at the arrows and somehow work out that they were placed there by hand. He can almost imagine Jesse measuring how far they pierced the target and deducing they were not loosed from his bow. "It is the least I can do as the victor."

"Okay." Jesse scrubs a hand through his beard again. "Well, I guess I got a date with the mirror and a razor then," he says with a heavy sigh. "Then we'll head into town, pick up your suit and any last minute items for the mission. Probably gonna need a new wardrobe."

Hanzo nods, grinning. "I look forward to seeing you once you are finished."

"You can at least _try_ to contain your excitement!"

"I can try," Hanzo says sheepishly. “But I am interested in seeing you without it."

Jesse just nods, but does not move from his position or look away from Hanzo, leaving him wondering what Jesse is thinking. He starts to wonder if Jesse has started to work out how he cheated, or perhaps Jesse is searching his face for a tell for the falsehood. In any case, Hanzo looks back, ensuring his face remains neutral. 

"Well go on!" Genji exclaims, pushing Jesse and snapping him out of his stupor. "I am sure everyone is eager to see you clean shaven too!"

"Fine," Jesse grumbles. He looks back at Hanzo and turns on his heel, stalking out of the training range. Only once he is through the second set of doors does Hanzo turn to Genji.

" _Why did you do that_?!" he asks in Japanese.

" _I told you I had a_ need!"

" _Do they know_?" Hanzo's eyes flick up to those who remain, only Hana, Lucio and Lena at this stage.

" _Do you think I can trust them to keep their mouths shut? I told them that I was confident you would win, and they bought it. No suspicion._ "

" _But now I live with the fact that I won unfairly._ "

"Oh no," Genji starts, sarcasm dripping off his words, " _maybe you will have to just shave your beard, too, to atone for your actions._ "

Hanzo opens his mouth to retort, and now it starts to make sense. " _You wanted me to win unfairly and dishonourably so I would shave, too?_ "

Genji smirks and shrugs sheepishly. " _I_ _t would be a bonus, if I am being honest._ "

Rolling his eyes, Hanzo turns on his heel and storms off to the training dummies to collect his arrows.

"Don't be mad, anija,” Genji calls from behind, jogging to catch up. “ _You do not have to shave._ "

" _I_ _have no plans to_ ," Hanzo replies flatly. Though he brings his hand up to his cheek and rubs at the trimmed hairs on his cheeks and jawline. " _T_ _hough I suppose I should look clean shaven for the mission._ "

" _Probably would not hurt._ "

Hanzo sighs, plucking his arrows from the heads of the dummies and slipping them into his quiver. That alone does not seem enough recompense for Genji's actions. He scratches his head, running the flat of his hand over his head to his top-knot, and the realisation dawns on him. While he still feels that this will not be enough to make up for the fact that Genji cheated, it is a small grievance, and it is something he has been thinking about doing for a while.

First, he will collect his arrows, then once Genji is no longer by his side, he will seek out Lena and finally talk to her about his hair.

* * *

"You want to what?!" Lena asks, eyes wide in disbelief.

"I wish to cut my hair short."

"But I love your hair!" She runs her fingers through his long locks exaggeratedly.

"I do too, but I have an idea in mind for the mission, and I do not believe Reo will have long hair."

"Well..." She looks at his hair, bundling it and holding it between her fore- and middle-fingers at the base of his neck. "I guess."

"It is hair and it will grow back," Hanzo says with a smile.

"That's true." She lets go of his hair, sweeping it over his left side; something he does when he wears it down when relaxing. Falling a good couple of inches past his shoulders, cutting his hair is something he has been thinking about doing for a long time. His shorter hair did grow on him when he was _kumichō_ , even though with it that short it reminded him much of his father. He looks in the mirror, noting that right now, now that he is older, he looks more like his father than he had previously.

"The usual for your undercut?" Lena asks, breaking Hanzo from his thoughts.

Hanzo looks at the shorter hairs on the side of his head, currently much longer than he would normally leave it and in desperate need of a trim. "Not as short, perhaps."

"Number three, then?"

Hanzo nods, watching Lena through the mirror as he puts the guard on the clippers. She places a hand on the top of his head and gently pushes down. She makes quick work of trimming his undercut as usual, and once it is done Hanzo is happier; it makes his grey hairs less noticeable.

She sets the clippers down and picks up a brush, brushing Hanzo's hair back. "So what style does Reo have, and how short are you thinking?"

"Reo wears his hair on his left side too, length up to my ears."

Lena nods, sweeping his hair over his left side again and marking the length with her fingers again. "'Bout this?" she asks, holding her fingers just above his ear.

"Perhaps a little shorter at the front, but yes, that should do."

"So you still want a fringe," she says with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Please. Even though I do have plans to sweep it aside, too."

"Okay, gotcha. Layers?"

"One or two."

"Right-o." Lena pauses, looks at Hanzo through the mirror properly. "Are you sure? There's no going back after this."

"I am sure," Hanzo reiterates. "Like I said, it is hair and it will grow back eventually."

"Okay," Lena breathes, smiling. She picks up the scissors, holding them in her hand as she combs his hair back once more. Holding his hair between her fingers at the nape of his neck, she makes the first cut, and Hanzo's world crashes around him. The gravity of the situation starts to sink in, and now that he will have short hair—a cold, hard fact, a certain reality and something he cannot go back and undo—he wishes it all back. He is freed from his thoughts as a lock of his hair falls down his shoulder and over the barber's cape to collect in his lap. His eyes snap to his reflection, looking at the beginnings of his new hairstyle and... it is not as jarring a change as he expected.

"What do you think so far?"

"It is not bad," Hanzo admits. He turns his head from side-to-side. "I actually think I do like it."

"It looks good!" Lena brushes his hair over to his left side, falling to his jawline. "Going to be shorter still, but I think it looks great!"

Hanzo smiles, watching as Lena starts to style his hair. With each cut, it gets shorter and shorter, until she is all done and it is properly styled.

"This what you're thinking?" she asks.

"Yes," he breathes, looking at it from both sides of his face. He brushes his fingers through his shorter bangs, then over the top of his head, sweeping from right-to-left. It is all so short and will take some time to get used to, but he really does like it. With a nod and smile to his reflection, Hanzo looks at Lena in the mirror. "Thank you."

"Any time, love! Any chance I can sit in when Jess sees it? He's gonna lose his mind!"

Hanzo feels a twinge of anxiety in his gut. "Why?"

"Oh! Ah! Well…” she stammers, eyes wide. “It's a drastic change! I'm sure everyone'll lose their minds," she giggles nervously.

"Yes," Hanzo says quietly. He never considered nor cared what Jesse would think—at least not until this second, now that he is starting to realize that Jesse might actually have romantic feelings for him. He clears his throat, snapped out of his thoughts when Lena removes the cape. "I suppose you can come along. Though I would assume that everyone will be present when he finally reveals his unbearded face."

And with that statement, his comm pings. Hanzo unlocks it, seeing a text message from Jesse that reads: _My quarters. Now. And bring that annoying brother of yours._

"It seems I am summoned," Hanzo says, looking at Lena through the mirror. He reads the message again and a smile teases his lips. "And it seems that he is not happy." He shows Lena the message and she scoffs.

"No, it does not. Maybe I'll hang back and just ask what his reaction is after this."

"Perhaps it is wise," Hanzo says with a chuckle. He replies to Jesse's message with a simple 'on my way', before messaging Genji, telling him to meet him here. He would get Genji's reaction before Jesse's. Turning in his seat, he looks at Lena and smiles. "Thank you, Lena."

"Ain't a problem, love!" she chirps, placing all her tools back into her bag. "Let me know how it goes, yeah?"

Hanzo nods, standing to walk her to the door of his room. She gives him a salute as he opens the door and Hanzo bows his head. About to close the door, he hears a voice call "Lena!" from down the corridor, poking his head through to see Genji approaching. Hanzo can see the moment he looks at Lena's hairdressing bag, then at Hanzo, and the look of shock on his face is actually humorous. Lena seems to have caught on too, if not for the fact that she turns to her side and looks between Hanzo and Genji, grinning wide.

"Anija! What did you do to your hair?!"

"I believed it pertinent for the mission to cut my hair."

"And not to do with anything _else?_ "

Hanzo raises his hand, thumb and forefinger held out and only about a centimetre apart. _A small part._

Genji stands in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he analyses the look. "I like it," he says finally. "I know Jesse is not going to be happy."

"Right?!" Lena chimes in, blinking over to them.

"Why not?" Hanzo asks Genji. “I am sure he will not mind.”

"Oh, Hanzo," Genji says slowly, shaking his head. "There are many things Jesse likes about you, and I am certain your hair was on the top of that list."

Hanzo’s stomach flutters, and his mind briefly supplies him with Jesse running his fingers through his now gone long bangs before pushing them behind his ear. He blinks rapidly, pushing that thought aside as he looks at Genji. "Do you believe I have made an error, then?"

Genji shrugs. "He will be shocked, but I do think he will like it regardless."

"Good," Hanzo relaxes, smiling. Now he is interested in seeing Jesse's reaction to his new look. With a nod to Genji, Hanzo stands up straight and closes his door. "That is where we are headed now. Jesse wishes to see us."

Clapping his hands and unable to contain his excitement if the squeal was anything to go by, he drapes his arm over Hanzo's shoulders. "Then what are we waiting for?!"

"Let me know, hey!" Lena says, punching Hanzo in the arm lightly.

"I will," Hanzo replies as he is practically dragged away by Genji. They walk around the corner and up to Jesse's door, and Hanzo knocks.

"Door's open," is all he hears from the other side, and Hanzo looks at Genji as he opens the door. Hanzo looks around as he closes the door behind them. Jesse's room is messier than usual, clothes are piled on his bed haphazardly with his hat sitting on the top. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sits on his nightstand, and an empty bottle is on his desk. Normally his room is meticulous. Strangely meticulous, given the man himself is the proverbial bull in the china shop.

"In here," Jesse calls from the bathroom. "And don't mind the mess."

Hanzo nods, leading the way to the bathroom. He sees Jesse looking at his reflection in the mirror, towel over his face and covering everything from his eyes down. He shakes his head and turns to face them, lowering the towel and Hanzo—and Genji beside him—cannot contain the laughter that bursts forth.

"Yeah, just what I thought," Jesse says bitterly, covering his face again.

Hanzo rides out the laughter, letting it fall off naturally after unsuccessfully trying to stop it abruptly. Genji is practically doubled over and showing no signs of stopping, and Hanzo takes a step towards Jesse, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Show me again."

Groaning, Jesse lowers the towel, and Hanzo places his other hand on his wrist so he does not get the urge to cover up again. Jesse is indeed clean shaven, the only hair on his face is the long sideburns that come down the length of his ears and spill onto his cheeks slightly, and the soul patch below his lip. He studies Jesse's face, and though he would never admit it, he is quite _attractive_ absent the facial hair. His stomach flutters again; he knows he should say something, but he cannot tear his eyes away.

"It's bad, right?" Jesse prompts.

"You look like a teenager," Genji replies, taking a deep breath and placing a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "I fucking forgot how young you look without the beard."

“See," Jesse starts, huffing and tossing the towel in the sink, "this is why I never shave. I look older than I am with the beard and sixteen without it.”

"You are just baby-faced," Hanzo says, pulling his hands away. "I am sure I would look the same without my beard."

"Yeah," Jesse sighs, looking at Hanzo in the mirror. He does a double-take and his eyes widen, settling on his hair. "Hanzo, what did you do?!"

Hanzo smiles, smoothing his hand over his head. "This is something I have wanted to do for a while now. Something that I thought felt right for this mission."

"But..." Jesse takes a breath and holds it for a moment before expelling it hard. "Yeah, I guess."

"And also because you were not wrong in your accusation that I did not cheat."

"I fuckin' knew it—"

"Hanzo had no part in it," Genji says quickly. "I really needed to see you without your beard and cheated on his behalf. Do not be angry with him."

"That bet had 'Genji' written all over it!" Jesse exclaims. He turns his attention back to Hanzo and smiles softly. "You didn't have to do anything if you didn't know."

"I did not win on honourable terms. And since you had to shave your beard, I figured the least I could do was change my appearance, too."

"Well, that is awful nice of you, Hanzo." Jesse looks at his reflection in the mirror, frowning. "Shit, this is gonna take me forever to get used to. Haven't had this little facial hair since before Blackwatch." He then runs his hand through his hair. "And I suppose I should see Lena and get this mop styled if I'm not allowed to wear my hat either," he adds begrudgingly.

"It would probably be wise," Hanzo says softly. "She was interested in seeing your new look."

"Yeah, I bet she is. Her an' the rest of 'em too." Jesse sighs, pulling out his comm and tapping furiously at it before stuffing it in his pocket. He turns to his side and extends his hand towards the bathroom door, Hanzo exits the room to stand beside his bed as his comm pings. Checking it, the message is from Jesse, reading “ _The grand unveiling. Rec room two minutes._ ”

Hanzo cannot help but chuckle, looking at Jesse. “A bit theatrical?”

Jesse winks, grabbing his hat off the pile of clothing and placing it on his head, and already he seems more himself. "A'ight. Let's get this over with."

They follow Jesse through the corridors, and approaching the rec room, Hanzo can already hear the excited voices on the other side of the door. He cannot remember a time where everyone made it to one place so quickly.

Jesse stops in front of the doors, places his hands on the handles before pulling them back, hesitating.

“Are you okay?” Genji asks, which is strangely uncharacteristic— “Would you like Hanzo to hold your hand?”

And there he is.

“I’m fine,” Jesse bites back. He looks at Hanzo, and if Hanzo were being truthful, if Jesse extended his hand, he would probably take it. Instead, Jesse clears his throat and looks at the doors before opening them and stepping through.

There is about a second’s worth of calm before the laughter erupts.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Jesse says, folding his arms across his chest. As it starts to die off—the only uncontrollable laughter is from Lena and Angela, two people who have known Jesse for over a decade—the rest of the team start to look on in varying states of approval. To Hanzo’s immense surprise, Hana is looking on in a somewhat state of awe.

“Wow!” Hana exclaims over the dying laughter. “You actually look good!”

“I always look good, sweetheart,” Jesse replies, throwing her one of his trademark grins and a finger gun.

“You look homeless with the beard and your cowboy getup,” she adds mercilessly. Jesse places a hand over his heart, mocking hurt. “Now you look decent. Though I hope you’re not going to wear your hat?”

“Naw, no hat.” Jesse takes off the hat and tousles his hair before pulling it back, like he did in the suit shop. “Thinkin’ of somethin’ like this. Plain, simple and elegant.”

“Yeah, that’ll work,” Lena says, appearing beside him. She places a hand on his shoulder for balance to stand on her toes to sweep his hair back. He bends down slightly and she winks, playing with his hair for a moment. “Okay, I can do something similar to Hanzo’s, I reckon. Just a little trim and tidy will get you lookin’ smart.”

“I’m gonna be a new man after this,” Jesse croons. “At least I won’t be recognised.”

“Which is the whole point of an undercover mission,” Hanzo states.

“Speaking of,” Hana says, approaching. She stands in front of Hanzo, hands on her hips. “You’ve cut your hair.”

“For the sake of the mission,” Hanzo responds.

“And ‘cause Genji rigged the competition so Hanzo would win,” Jesse adds.

Hana bursts into laughter. “Genji, you magnificent bastard!”

“I tried convincing Hanzo to shave too,” Genji replies, “but he wasn’t having any of it.”

“Oh, c’mon, the haircut was enough!” Jesse says before Hanzo can get a word in. He looks at Hanzo, his eyes flit up to his hair, and Hanzo smiles when he pouts. “Anyway,” Jesse sighs, sideways glancing at Hana and Genji before turning his back to them, “we’ve got a full day ahead of us: Haircut, casual clothes, suits, figure out the history of our covers. Anything else?”

“I think that covers everything.”

“Well then,” Jesse says, placing one hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, the other on Lena’s. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

* * *

The rest of the day flies by in a blur.

After Jesse’s reveal, Hanzo and Genji follow behind him and watch Lena cut and style his hair. Styled back, Hanzo found himself just _staring_ at Jesse. He was already attractive before the changes to his appearance, but now, Hanzo might just be in love.

From there, he and Jesse head back into town to pick up Hanzo’s suit. Julian looks at Jesse stunned, telling them that he was completely sceptical that anyone could convince him to not only shave, but to cut his hair. Jesse laughs and shrugs it off, telling Julian of how the events of the bet transpired, that even though Hanzo’s win was not an honourable win, Hanzo was still too honourable not to amend his appearance. That is when Julian noticed Hanzo’s new look, and complimented the both of them for looking the part.

From Julian's, they pick up some last minute smart-casual clothes for their cover. Hanzo chooses dark jeans and a few silk shirts, whereas Jesse opts for something a little more casual, with lighter jeans, some t-shirts and a leather jacket, deciding something that is outside his usual plaid shirts is better. He also buys a pair of tan-coloured gloves to wear with his suit, opting to keep his prosthetic hidden at the show, stating that the public does not know that Joel Morricone has a prosthetic.

After shopping, they have a quick, late lunch. Jesse, on more than one occasion, catches Hanzo staring at him, and aside from a few playful winks and smirks, he thankfully does not say anything about it.

Back at the base, they spend three hours working out their respective persona’s history. They decide to keep a few details close to their lives to make it easier to remember, like the fact that Reo does archery on weekends, and Joel is from Santa Fe. They decide that they met at a shooting range when Reo was on business in America, and given Reo spends a lot of his time on the road and can do most of his work away from the shop in Tokyo, he decided to stay in America. They dated for a year, Reo proposed and they got married four months later, honeymooning on the Swiss Alps during winter. Now, happily married for three years, they travel everywhere together.

The pre-mission meeting before their departure is more a summary of the previous briefing. While Genji, Lena and Fareeha would be leaving and travelling together as part of the Helix team, for Hanzo and Jesse, the mission began from there.

They are dropped off at the airport, fly from Gibraltar to Nice, acting like husbands of three years to the flight staff—in love but not completely, utterly enamoured by each other. A suggestion by Hanzo’s insistence, even though he knows he should probably be more ‘touchy-feely’ as Jesse had put it. Hanzo himself is not the most affectionate person, and pretending to be something he is not would have obviously shown his discomfort. In reality, while that is very true, he feels that once he commits to the role, there would be no stopping him from turning his wants and desires into something _real_ , something he is still uncertain that Jesse would be interested in. At this stage of the mission, maintaining a professional relationship with Jesse is the logical choice, and he can at least build up to being more handsy when they are in public.

Though, having said all that, sitting in the back of their cab and holding Jesse's hand on the ride to Monte Carlo is pleasant. They probably don't have to—their driver has shown no real interest in them—but they still do. He looks at Jesse’s profile, analysing the slope of his nose, his sideburns, the stubble of his beard showing already, and chuckles.

“What?” Jesse asks, amused.

“Your beard grows fast.”

Jesse takes back his hand and rubs his face, his fingernails catching on the stubble which leaves Hanzo wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch his face. “Yeah, why d’you think I stopped shaving?”

Hanzo nods, smiles when Jesse’s hand falls into his again. “I know the sentiment.” He reaches up and rubs at his own cheeks. While he did shave this morning, he can already feel the hairs growing back. “I will need to shave before the show tomorrow.”

“You and me both.”

They pull up to the hotel, Jesse gets their bags and suits out of the trunk as Hanzo pays for the fare, leaving a generous tip. He joins Jesse on the sidewalk, taking from him his own suit and suitcase.

Jesse whistles, low and appreciative, as he looks at the white exterior of the hotel. “Ain’t ever been somewhere this fancy for an extended stay.”

Staying in hotels such as this in his former life was a luxury Hanzo knows he is lucky to have been afforded, though it has been over a decade since he stepped into a hotel this impressive. “It looks nice.”

“It’s a five-star hotel, it’s more than nice.”

Hanzo shrugs, nudges his elbow against Jesse’s and proceeds in. He stands in front of the check-in counter, and is greeted by a young woman with a friendly smile on her face.

“Welcome to Rinaldi Monte Carlo, how may I help you today?”

“We would like to check in,” Hanzo starts, looking at Jesse on his left. “Nakayama-Morricone.”

The woman nods, addresses her computer, and the smile on her face grows even more. “So, I have good news and bad news. Unfortunately, we have been overbooked as our double suites are quite popular. Fortunately for you, we have had a last minute wedding cancellation and you have been upgraded to the honeymoon suite.”

Hanzo looks at her, blinking like she has uttered words in a foreign language. He knows he needs to recover from this, but his brain is caught on her words.

She looks between Hanzo and Jesse, the smile falling from her face. “Oh… I can see what I can do about getting you that room back.” She looks at her holoscreen and types frantically.

“No need, sweetheart,” Jesse says easily, adding a little chuckle for good measure. “We don’t need a double suite, the honeymoon suite is fine.”

She looks from Jesse to Hanzo, like she is expecting confirmation from him.

Jesse nudges Hanzo with his elbow. “Reo?”

“Yes,” Hanzo agrees, smiling as he looks at Jesse, then back to the woman. “Yes, it will be fine. We are a couple who share a bed, there is no need for the double suite.”

“That we are,” Jesse chuckles, draping an arm over Hanzo’s shoulders and pulling him in close.

Reeling from the contact, realising that Jesse is tall enough that he can fit under his arm quite snug, Hanzo finds himself bringing his arm up, grabbing a fistful of Jesse’s shirt on his waist. He rests his head on Jesse’s chest in an attempt to show the woman behind the counter that they are indeed a couple who are happy and do not sleep in separate beds.

The woman smiles, organises the room key and Hanzo cannot help but live in this moment where he is _this_ close to Jesse; close enough to smell his natural smell without it being overpowered by cigar smoke, to hear the rhythmic thump of his beating heart, to feel the gentle caress of his breath on the top of his head. Hanzo relaxes, lays his hand flat on Jesse’s waist, only pulling away when the woman slides over the room keycards.

“Even though you are not on your actual honeymoon, you will be treated with the same perks as if you were. A bottle of champagne has been ordered and will be at the room momentarily. I can also organise a dinner reservation for the in-house restaurant if you would like, for the night of your choosing. Free of charge, of course!”

Hanzo looks at Jesse and shrugs. “We do not have any plans for tonight,” he breathes.

“Tonight sounds like a plan, pumpkin.”

Hanzo smiles, looking back at the woman. “Tonight, please.”

“Not a problem,” she says typing on the keyboard. “Reservation is booked for eight p.m.”

“Perfect.”

“Thank you,” Jesse adds, picking up the keycards. “You are too kind.”

“We aim to please,” the woman says with a smile, as if reciting the hotel’s motto. “If there is anything else we can do for you, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”

“Of course,” Hanzo says with the bow of his head. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We hope you enjoy your stay with us at Rinaldi Monte Carlo.”

With a nod, Hanzo picks up his suitcase and leads the way to the elevator, pressing the call button. Jesse stands beside him and there is a beat of silence before the elevator chimes and the doors open.

“That was awful nice of ‘em to give us the room upgrade,” Jesse says jovially.

“Indeed,” Hanzo responds. He clings to the hope that it is nothing more than a room upgrade, that the mission is not over before it even starts.

“Free dinner, too. Seems too good to be true.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, let’s enjoy it while it lasts, hey?”

Hanzo looks at Jesse and smiles. In the off chance they have not been discovered, or have been and are being monitored, they should keep up appearances as to not arouse suspicion. “It will be good to have a second honeymoon, considering how close this date is to our wedding date.”

“I like the way you think,” Jesse coos, draping his arm over Hanzo’s shoulder once more.

Hanzo chuckles silently, bringing his hand up and resting it on Jesse’s waist again. He has to say that he is enjoying this contact very much, and begins to wonder if perhaps Genji was right, that there is something more here than he originally thought. Perhaps after the mission, he will talk with Jesse about his feelings, because right now, the thought of going back to what they had, being so close yet so far, is something that he cannot even fathom.

The elevator dings and Hanzo is pulled from his thoughts. He feels a pang of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, realising his fingertips were brushing against the hem of Jesse’s jeans. When did his hand slip down to his hip? He tries to ignore it, taking back his hand and picking up his suitcase when the doors open, saving himself the embarrassment by not looking back at Jesse.

Until he realises Jesse has the keycards, so he has to wait for Jesse like a fool at the door. He glances at Jesse as he saunters down the hallway, grin on his face as he winks. Hanzo looks away, finding more interest in his shoes than Jesse as he tries to hide the fierce blush that must be obvious on his cheeks.

He looks up again when he hears the door unlock, walking in when Jesse opens the door. The room is quite extravagant, they are met with a small kitchen with marble benchtops on the left of the room, a glass-topped dining table with high backed leather chairs, then a black leather couch in front of a holounit displaying the hotel information to the right of the room.

“It is a nice room,” Hanzo says, looking for anything out of the ordinary, checking corners and taking note of light fixtures and smoke detectors to scan for bugs later.

“Very nice,” Jesse replies.

Hanzo turns, seeing him in another room. Standing beside him, he first settles on the king size bed in the centre of the bedroom. At least there will be ample space between him and Jesse when they sleep.

Hanzo heads into the adjoining bathroom, looking from the double basin, the large shower that can easily accommodate two people, and a large bathtub in the corner of the room. He looks at the complimentary shampoo and conditioner, checking for anything which looks planted, then the drawers and cupboards, and sees nothing.

“The bathroom is large,” Hanzo says, walking back into the bedroom. He pulls his phone from his pocket, opening the scanning app as Jesse takes a look in the bathroom.

“That shower,” he groans. Hanzo looks over in time to see him fall on the doorframe. “You know how much I love a big shower.”

Hanzo chuckles, walking around the bed. To say the showers on the base are small would be generous. “You will not be banging your elbows on the walls.” Hanzo makes the assumption, as he tends to knock his elbows when washing his hair.

“You know it,” Jesse breathes, looking back, shaking his head as he looks at his phone. The bathroom is clear.

Hanzo opens the doors to the balcony, looking at the stunning view of the ocean. “Joel,” Hanzo calls over his shoulder. His first time in Monaco, he has found the architecture and landscaping of every building simply gorgeous, and this view just tops it off.

Jesse whistles as he stands next to Hanzo. “That’s some view.”

“Certainly is,” Hanzo breathes. His phone vibrates, indicating it has done its search of the bedroom and balcony, and found no devices. Still, he turns, closes the door and takes a moment to just look at the view. Not many places at the watchpoint have a view of the ocean; crew quarters are all well within the cliff and are absent windows. Short of spending any moment he can when the weather permits outside admiring the view, he does long for a good view, and this satisfies his craving.

“We should continue our scan and check in, let everyone know we arrived safely,” Jesse murmurs with a reluctance that Hanzo is currently feeling.

Hanzo nods, sighing as he enters the bedroom again and walks out to the living area. He enters the kitchen, scanning there as Jesse scans the living area. Hanzo opens every cupboard and drawer, the oven and fridge, scans the smoke detector and lights all the way up to the front door. When it comes back clear, he joins Jesse in the living area.

“It’s clean,” Jesse says, pocketing his phone. “It was just a genuine room upgrade.”

Hanzo nods, opens his mouth to speak when there is a knock at the door. He looks at Jesse and frowns.

“Room service,” the voice on the other side of the door announces.

With a nod, Hanzo approaches the front door cautiously. While they were told room service would be dropping off the bottle of champagne, he still has his suspicions that this was not orchestrated by an outside force. Adrenaline courses through his veins as he opens the door, ready to fight if he has to.

“Hello,” the man says, smiling. Hanzo bows his head, looking at the ice bucket with the champagne in it sitting on the trolley. He stands to his side, letting the man in and glances at Jesse, leaning against the bench and phone on the countertop, no doubt scanning the man and the trolley. He sets up a stand, places the bucket inside it and smiles. “Enjoy, gentlemen.”

“Thank you,” Jesse says.

“You’re welcome.” They watch the man leave, Hanzo opens the door for him and closes it behind him, looking at Jesse.

“Clean.”

“Good,” Hanzo breathes, picking up the bottle. “This is probably going to be a good vintage.”

“You can help yourself, bubbly ain’t really my thing.”

“Perhaps later,” Hanzo says, placing the bottle back in the ice. He enters the bedroom, grabbing his tablet from his suitcase and returning, placing it on the bench as he accesses Athena to set up rolling encryptions before dialling Winston. Jesse joins him as the call connects, seeing Winston and Ana on the screen.

“Reo, Joel,” Winston starts, “good to see that you made it in one piece. I trust everything is well.”

“Sure is,” Jesse answers. “We got ourselves a little room upgrade, and the room is clean.”

Winston nods slowly, looking at Ana before looking somewhere offscreen.

“That is good to hear,” Ana replies. “Tell us about the room.”

“It’s a nice suite, got a _great_ view of the ocean. Got complementary champagne and free dinner organised, too.”

Winston’s eyes snap to the screen. “Those things are usually reserved for the honeymoon suite.”

Jesse chuckles nervously, looking at Hanzo.

“That is the room we are in,” Hanzo answers.

“O-Oh,” Winston stammers, looking at Ana. She has a smirk on her face, a single eyebrow raised.

“Big bed,” Jesse says, and Hanzo frowns, looking at him. Hanzo notes the red in his cheeks and he looks back at the tablet immediately, _hoping_ that none of this is obvious. “But uh… It’s got a pretty big couch, too, so we should be fine with sleeping arrangements.”

“As long as you are comfortable,” Ana says playfully.

“We will ensure the room stays clean,” Hanzo says, trying to get back on track. Code for setting up surveillance outside the room. “So cleaning staff have no need to come in.”

“Very well,” Winston responds.

“Enjoy your second honeymoon,” Ana says, tone still playful, “and don’t be strangers. We want to see lots of pictures of your holiday.”

“‘Course,” Jesse replies. “Will check in again after dinner.”

“Looking forward to it.”

With a nod, Hanzo ends the call. He exhales noisily, leaning against the bench. “I am expecting a call from Genji at any moment. No doubt to rub this current situation in my face.”

“You and me both,” Jesse replies flatly. He sighs. “I can take the couch.”

Hanzo looks at Jesse, then at the couch. He had not considered them sleeping separately. What does that show about Hanzo’s feelings? “Nonsense, I am sure the bed will be big enough for the both of us.”

Jesse’s eyes snap to meet his, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You wanna… share the bed?”

“Considering we will be using it for sleep, that we will be unconscious for most of it, I do not see a problem.” Hanzo chuckles. “Unless you have a problem, gunslinger.”

“Nope, no, don’t have a problem,” Jesse says quickly. He reaches for the top of his head, no doubt searching for his hat to pull it over his eyes, something he does in the rare times he is embarrassed. He huffs, realising it is not there and instead turns around and heads for the bedroom. “Okay, if you’re comfortable sharin’ a bed, then so am I.”

“It would be best for the sake of the mission.”

“In case we get busted in on in the middle of the night?”

“We have a cover to maintain.”

“And surveillance will wake us up in the event someone tries to break in.”

“You do not seem comfortable with this.”

“No, I am. I…” Jesse huffs, leaning against the doorframe.

There is a long moment of silence, where Hanzo finds himself wondering what Jesse is thinking. Jesse blushed when he mentioned the bed to Winston and Ana, so he supposes there may be some truth to Genji's words after all, that Jesse  _does_ in fact like him. A part of him cannot help but indulge in the niggling thought, the little voice in the back of his mind, telling him that he cannot be  _loved_ by anyone after everything he has done.

“You’re right,” Jesse says eventually. “Sleepin’ on the couch at the very least is gonna result in a poor night’s sleep, and that’s somethin’ we don’t need on this mission. We need to be alert and not be distracted with a crick neck or back.”

Hanzo nods. A very logical thought; they have to be at their best for this mission.

“Okay," Jesse breathes, standing up straight. "How about we set up surveillance and then scope out the rest of the hotel, do some sightseeing?”

“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Morricone-Nakayama,” Hanzo says with a smirk. It grows wider with Jesse’s grin.

“Why thank you, Mr. Nakayama-Morricone,” Jesse replies, winking.

Hanzo winks, walking into the bedroom. Perhaps he can have fun with this cover, be the Hanzo he _wants_ to be around Jesse through Reo.

Then dread pools in his stomach. It will be impossible to go back to how things were before this mission.


	3. Anxious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get a little spicy in this chapter.

“ _Lookin’ good._ ”

Hanzo gives the smallest of nods, glancing at the holodisplay of advertisements showing Monaco’s tourist hot spots. His eyes flit ever so briefly to the small camera he placed in the potted plant beside the screen; the angle should cover the lobby and front desk.

He looks at the list of landmarks, taking the time to read them and selecting a few at random. Already having an interest in historic architecture, Saint Nicholas Cathedral and _Place du Palais_ are selected, the information sent to Reo’s phone. Casino Square is obvious, considering Jesse had made mention of heading to Monte Carlo Casino as part of their ‘sightseeing’ and selects that too.

With a shrug, he leaves the display and walks back to the elevator, pressing the call button. While he waits, he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks around, feigning boredom. With no one within sight, he pulls another camera from his pocket, rolling the small disc between thumb and forefinger before walking up to another potted plant and burying it in the foliage.

“ _Got it. Nice angle of all the elevators, too._ ”

Hanzo hums, walks to the middle elevator when it dings and the doors open. Only when he is inside and the doors are closed does he allow himself to speak. “The hotel’s need for plants in every vacant space is proving quite useful.” He reaches into his pocket, rolling the next camera between thumb and forefinger.

“ _Tryin’ to bring that gorgeous outdoor landscaping inside, hey?_ ”

“Seems so.”

The elevator dings again, coming to a stop before opening. Hanzo looks down the corridor, left then right, before standing on his toes in the small alcove, placing the camera above the mirror opposite the doors.

“ _Nice spot._ ”

Smirking, Hanzo approaches their room, placing the final camera above the door. Four cameras in all, Athena will monitor the footage and scan faces, running them through numerous criminal databases and the old Blackwatch database, alerting them if need be.

He unlocks the door, closing it behind him and locking it. Fishing his comm out of his ear, he places it back in the case on the counter before joining Jesse at the dining table, looking at the surveillance images and analysing the position of the cameras.

“Not bad.”

“It’ll do,” Jesse says turning in his seat when Hanzo sits down. “I saw you lookin’ at the tourist information, where’re we goin’?”

Hanzo hands Jesse his phone. “It seemed pertinent that I at least _look_ like I was there for a reason.”

“Makes sense.”

“But I figured we could just walk.”

“Walking sounds great, actually. We can scope out the entertainment room where the fashion show is goin’ to be held, get an idea of the layout, the exits. Maybe even place a few sneaky cameras.”

With a nod, Hanzo grabs two extra cameras and helps Jesse to pack the rest of their surveillance gear away, making the room look like it is currently occupied by loved-up tourists on a holiday and not agents of a still technically illegal Overwatch.

“A’ight, ready?”

Hanzo smiles. “As I will ever be.”

Jesse approaches and offers his elbow, Hanzo looks at him and exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, but still wraps his hand around Jesse’s bicep.

“Always with the sass,” Jesse drawls.

Hanzo chuckles, an attempt to hide his sudden yet unexpected excitement at the feel of solid muscle underneath his fingertips. He has seen Jesse both shirtless and in t-shirts to know the man is all muscle, so it should not be a surprise, yet it is taking an astonishing amount of restraint not to squeeze it.

He leads the way, hoping at the very least his cheeks are not as red as they feel, and is thankful that Jesse makes no mention of it when the door is closed behind them. They walk to the elevator in silence, wait for it in silence, take it down to the ground floor in silence, and only when they are outside in the hotel’s courtyard, is the silence broken.

“Warm day,” Jesse breathes, pulling at the collar of his t-shirt.

“Perhaps a leather jacket was not the best option for this weather.”

“Maybe, but I got a look, and I rock that look.”

Hanzo smirks, side-eyeing Jesse. Seeing him in tight t-shirts has been quite enjoyable. “You do,” he breathes, meeting Jesse’s eyes and winking at him.

They approach the entertainment room, the isolated building is almost identical in appearance to the hotel itself, and just their luck, the doors are open.   

“Camera in the corner,” Jesse murmurs, turning his head away from it.

Hanzo glances up at it as he peers inside the building, seeing the half-assembled runway. “I am sure they will not mind if we take a look,” he whispers, sliding his hand down to Jesse’s and pulling him inside. There is a bar set up on the back wall, a temporary fixture, perhaps, as it is empty for the moment.

As Hanzo walks further in, it is only then that he spots the three small dome cameras fixed to the ceiling. He keeps his head low, looks at Jesse and says, voice a near whisper, “Two, four and eight o’clock.”

Jesse keeps still, eyes darting at the two locations before glancing over his shoulder at the third. “See ‘em. Reckon they’re on?”

“It is a possibility, but not worth the risk to plant our own cameras and get discovered.”

Jesse hums, looking around the room properly. “Don’t seem like there’s gonna be very many people here given how small this room is.”

“Thirty, maybe forty,” Hanzo guesses. “No more than fifty.”

“Pretty exclusive list then, hey Reo.”

“We should count ourselves lucky.”

Jesse approaches the double doors at the back of the room which lead outside, resting his hands on the handles. “Now this is beautiful.” He unlocks the doors and steps through, Hanzo follows behind. They stand on a terrace, a set of steps leads down to a garden below, the path leads in two directions, one back to the hotel, and the other to a gate which can be accessed from the street. “I bet this is where folks’ll enter from.”

“It is a nicer entrance than the way we came in.”

Hanzo takes a moment to appreciate the landscaping, from the palm trees lining the wall of the hotel, to the smaller ones in planters on either side of the steps. Between the building and the garden is a fish pond, orange and black goldfish swim lazily. Hanzo descends the stairs and crosses the small bridge over the pond, stopping on the sandstone path of the gardens. “This is most definitely where people will be entering from,” he says, following the path around to the closed wooden gate. There, he spots another camera, and looking back at the building there is another above the door leading back into the hotel. Hanzo gestures to it with the nod of his head, and Jesse casually turns, looking at it.

“Well it’s certainly beautiful,” he says as he turns back around again. Hanzo crosses the bridge and climbs the stairs, standing next to Jesse.

“It is,” Hanzo responds. He sees movement in the room in his peripheral vision, tilts his head ever so slightly to the left. “Have you seen enough to write your story?” he says, loud enough for the person to hear.

“Excuse me!” a woman calls out, placing a box down on the bar and walking quickly to them. “This area is closed off.”

“Sorry,” Jesse says easily, “just takin’ a look around so I can get a head start on my piece.”

“Your piece?”

“Yep, Joel Morricone-Nakayama, blogger,” he says, extending his hand.

“Journalist,” she says with a hint of disdain in her tone, taking his hand. “That doesn’t surprise me. You like to get into places that are off limits.”

“Guilty,” Jesse chuckles.

The woman then looks at Hanzo. “Reo Nakayama-Morricone,” he says, extending his hand. “Not a journalist.”

“I see,” she says, looking him down. “I assume you will be in attendance at the show tomorrow.”

“We will,” Hanzo responds. “Both on business. I am a buyer and Joel will be writing a piece on the event.”

“Ah,” she says with a nod. “Well, there is not much to see now.”

“It’s enough to get the creative juices flowing. But ah,” Jesse wraps his arm around Hanzo’s shoulder, Hanzo brings his arm up to wrap around Jesse’s waist. “We should get out of your hair. There’s so much of Monaco we want to see, and so much I want to write about.”

The woman merely nods.

“And sorry again,” Hanzo adds.

“No need to apologise.” She takes a moment to look around, first the courtyard then inside, before turning back to them. “Everything seems to be in order, so I can see at least that you didn’t tamper with anything.”

“Not at all,” Jesse responds, placing a hand on his chest. “We’re honourable folk. Only here for the story is all.”

Hanzo nudges Jesse with his shoulder, looking up. Jesse looks down at him, and for a split second, he has the urge to stand on his toes and kiss him. “Come on, my love, we must go.”

“‘Course,” Jesse breathes, almost a whisper. He blinks rapidly, looking at the woman. “‘Course,” he repeats. “Be seein’ you around, ah…”

“Elodie.”

“Nice to meet you, Elodie. Will you be working tomorrow?”

“I will be one of the wait staff, yes.”

“Then we’ll see you tomorrow, Elodie.”

Elodie smiles. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Gently tugging on Jesse to get him moving, because he knows full well that Jesse’s Southern hospitality is kicking in and he will never end this conversation, Hanzo says as a finality, “Enjoy the rest of your day,” with the bow of his head.

“Same to you,” Elodie says, standing to her side before following them inside.

Hanzo hears the doors close behind them, then the doors to the room itself are closed behind them as they walk back to the hotel. It is not until they are through the hotel’s lobby and outside on the street when he speaks. “I do not think the cameras were on.”

“She did sound surprised to see us, hey?”

“They probably would not have sent a single person in to send us away, and we were there long enough that our presence would have been noted. Even then, I’m sure she would have made mention of the room being monitored.”

“We could have planted the cameras.”

“This is still an assumption, we do not have proof that the cameras were indeed off.”

“That’s true. Either way, we’ve probably burned our only opportunity to put cameras in there.”

“Between Helix and our comms, we will have adequate monitoring.”

Jesse hums, draping his arm over Hanzo’s shoulders again. “So where to first?”  

* * *

It would be a lie to say that Hanzo is stalling.

The walk around the city was surprisingly pleasant. Just like earlier that day, they held hands as they walked, chatting and laughing. They stopped in a cafe for afternoon tea, shared a _Monaco Millefeuille_ with their coffee, because of course Jesse has the same affinity for strawberries and cream on a cake as Hanzo does, and it is possibly one that rivals Hanzo’s own given how eagerly he ate his share.

From there, they went back to the hotel and checked in with the team, telling Winston and Ana about the entertainment room and how it will be monitored, and they only confirmed the plan to wear monitoring equipment. During the call, when he was back to being Hanzo and not Reo, he found himself fighting the urge to reach out and touch Jesse. It seems that he is already used to this extra contact, that is almost second nature now.

In any case, Genji noticed _something_ , and once the call ended Hanzo received a volley of messages on his phone, all of which are still unread.

Dinner, too, was pleasant. Hanzo ordered the cod and Jesse the rack of lamb, and there was no way he could turn down the matcha ice cream even though he was sceptical it would be good, but once again he was surprised. In terms of the food and the paired wine, he cannot say he has had a meal of that calibre for well over a decade, and he enjoyed every moment of it.

As they drank—and Hanzo had more to drink than he should have—they ‘reminisced’ about the good times Joel and Reo shared, each story becoming more outlandish than the last, all of which were based on truths, past experiences shared by Hanzo and Jesse. Like the time Hanzo and Jesse had gotten drunk trying to outcompete each other, proving that they both can handle their liquor extremely well. Or the time Jesse broke his leg trying to jump from the second story of a building. The truth of this was that Jesse was chasing a suspect, but Joel was putting up the Christmas lights on the roof, slipped and fell.  

They laughed, ended up getting a few snide looks from the other restaurant goers for their unruly behaviour, and ultimately decided it was best to call it a night and leave before they got themselves kicked out.

Back in the room, Hanzo allowed Jesse to perform his nightly routine first just so he could stall in the bathroom. Hanzo took a longer than necessary shower, spent a good long while brushing his teeth and applying his moisturisers, all in the hopes that Jesse would be asleep by the time he got into the bedroom. He did not want to have to battle his nerves, the awkwardness of sharing a bed with the man he clearly has a crush on, being so close to touch yet so far that he knows he should not act on it, as much as his mind is practically _screaming_ at him now, given all of this extra contact they have had over the past twenty-four hours.

So when he presses his ear to the door and finally does not hear anything, Hanzo takes a breath and slowly opens it, hoping Jesse is indeed asleep. He peeks through the crack in the door, the only light is from the lamp on Hanzo’s nightstand and Jesse is lying down on his side with the blanket up to his neck. Hanzo breathes a sigh of relief as he silently walks across the room to the bed, keeping his movements light and slow as he lifts the covers so he does not wake Jesse.

“Thought you might’ve fallen down the drain with how long you took. Was about to start a search for ya.”

Hanzo freezes, one leg on the bed and the other still on the floor. He knows he needs to move, but his limbs refuse to respond. Then Jesse rolls over, brings his arm above the blanket which exposes his chest.

His _bare_ chest, in all of its tanned, hairy glory.

Jesse follows Hanzo’s gaze, looks down, then back again, smirking. “Hope you don’t mind. I don’t wear anythin’ to bed usually.”

Hanzo cannot help it, but his eyes flick to the rise of Jesse’s hips.

“I got my sweats on!”

Eyes snapping to meet Jesse’s, Hanzo nods. Repeatedly. See, this is exactly what he wanted to avoid. “Of course,” he manages to say, his voice sounding incredibly weak to his own ears.

“I mean, if we weren’t sharin’ a bed I wouldn’t, but a man’s gotta save his modesty.”

Now, why would Jesse say _that_? So Hanzo now knows that every time he has knocked on Jesse’s door in the middle of the night, when sleep is nowhere to be seen and he is taking Jesse up on his offer for a late night chess match, that he has been in bed _naked_? That the reason it takes him so long to get to the door is not that he has just woken up and is struggling to get out of bed, but rather he is putting on his pants?

And with thanks to his traitorous brain, now all Hanzo can imagine is Jesse answering the door naked.

Realising he is still half hanging out of the bed, can feel the first hints of arousal in his core and Jesse’s eyes are still squarely trained on him, Hanzo _wills_ his muscles to move and climbs into bed. He clicks off the lamp and lies on his back, keeping his arms above the blanket and maintaining a respectable distance between them, focusing on the shadow of a palm tree dancing on the ceiling.

He turns his head, briefly entertains the idea of closing the blinds to the balcony which is letting in an obscene amount of street lighting. Considering he is already half-hard, he knows he cannot make it around the room without alerting Jesse to his movements and the obvious bulge.

Trying his best to focus on the shadows on the ceiling instead of the swelling between his legs, he has a realisation that he cannot continue to lie like this for risk of being discovered. He wants to turn to his side with his back facing Jesse, but decides that is probably rude, so he turns to face him, lying in the foetal position so if Jesse does move closer, he will hit Hanzo’s knees, not his erection.

It twitches in response to that thought. He really needs to stop drawing attention to it.

“I gotta admit,” Jesse starts, slipping his arm back under the blanket, “I’m a little anxious ‘bout this.”

Hanzo cannot help but smile. “Me too. It is why I had so much to drink with dinner.”

“Same.” Jesse takes a breath and exhales it noisily. “Don’t know why I was so worried, ain’t like this is bad.”

“It is just sharing a bed. It is no different to the times we are in cramped conditions on a stakeout.”

“Right?!”

Hanzo hums, makes an attempt to close his eyes. He inhales and exhales slowly, being this close to Jesse, Hanzo can smell the hotel soap and shampoo on him, that this is the first time he does not smell like stale smoke. A part of him longs for that smell, though, something he can only describe as Jesse’s smell.

Then another image floats in his mind, and that is of Hanzo sliding his nose up the side of Jesse’s jaw, breathing in that lingering smell of smoke and getting drunk off it.

His eyes shoot open, settling on Jesse in front of him. Jesse cracks an eye, looking at Hanzo before opening the other.

“Can’t sleep either?”

“It seems not,” Hanzo replies flatly. Being this close to Jesse, practically face to face, for whatever reason makes him a little uncomfortable. He wishes he could turn onto his back, but right beside is traitorous brain is his traitorous cock, now straining almost uncomfortably in his boxer-briefs.

“You wanna grab a coffee or somethin’?”

“It is quite late,” Hanzo replies quickly, because there is _no way_ he can go anywhere right now.

“Yeah, you’re right.” There is a brief moment of silence. “I can only imagine everyone at the watchpoint laughin’ up a storm at our current predicament.”

“I am sure we will not hear the end of it. Genji will always find an excuse to bring it up.”

“I bet he will,” Jesse mumbles. Hanzo hears him intake air as if he is about to speak, then does not.

“Hmm?” he prompts when the silence drags on a beat too long.

“Ain’t nothin’,” Jesse whispers. “I’m gonna try t'get some shut-eye.” And with that, Jesse rolls back over, saving Hanzo the need to roll over himself. “‘Night, Hanzo.”

“Good night.”

* * *

When Hanzo is roused from sleep, it is from an intense heat. He knew given it is summer that sleeping with the blanket while wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants was a bad idea. Groaning, he tries to roll onto his back but finds himself pinned in place. He tries to remember where he is, and why he cannot move. He opens his eyes, the morning sun is streaming through the blinds neither of them neglected to pull—

He looks down, seeing Jesse’s arm draped over his waist. Then he feels it—the slow, steady, rhythmic feel of Jesse’s breath on the back of his neck.

From there, he can feel the press of Jesse’s body slotted perfectly against his. Normally, Hanzo would have reservations about being the ‘little spoon’, and he likes to think that under any other circumstance, he would be pissed off that _this_ even happened. But, with his crush such as it is, he cannot help but indulge in this moment.

And surely Jesse is unaware this has even happened, that he did this in his sleep.

Surely this was not intentional.

After a moment of just basking in the warm embrace, Hanzo entertains the idea of moving. Not moving away, but perhaps bringing his arm above the covers to rest his on top of Jesse’s and weave their fingers together. Or to grind against him to gauge a reaction—

Jesse stirs in his sleep, burying his head in the nape of Hanzo’s neck, and hums and inhales deeply; it sends a shiver right down Hanzo’s spine and a jolt of adrenaline right to his cock. He feels a lurch in his stomach when he feels Jesse’s lips on his shoulder, the telltale press of a kiss, and his heart practically beats out of his chest when Jesse pulls away suddenly.

There is a moment of absolute stillness where Hanzo does not move, where Jesse does not move. Hanzo knows he only has two options. The first, he could say something to Jesse, but the only thing that comes to mind is, ‘it is okay, I know it was not intentional’, in an attempt to smooth this over and forget it. The second is to just pretend to be asleep and save him the embarrassment.

It is all decided for him when he feels Jesse’s arm slip away, and the heat on his back disappears as Jesse slowly climbs out of bed. Hanzo can hear the shuffle of his feet on the carpet, then the clicks of the bathroom door closing and being locked. Only then does Hanzo look over his shoulder to see with his own two eyes that the room is empty before lying on his back and covering his face with his hands.

His back tingles, he can still feel Jesse’s breath on the back of his neck, and the spot on his shoulder that he is convinced Jesse kissed feels like it is on fire. It reveals a hole in his heart he did not realise he had; a longing for waking up next to someone, sharing sleepy kisses and spooning in a warm bed, not alone in the cold, sterile rooms of the watchpoint.

After everything he and Jesse have been through; all of the missions, the injuries, his and Genji’s reconciliation, the countless chess matches and duels on the training range, through _all_ of that, surely Hanzo is deserving of this _one_ thing. Deserving of another person’s affections, someone he can share his empty life with.

Someone he knows, and who has on countless occasions, will save him from the darkness of his mind.

He uncovers his face and rolls onto his side, brushing his fingertips along Jesse’s pillow before bringing his hand under the blanket to savour the residual warmth on the mattress. If he knew how long Jesse would be in the bathroom, he would give in and smell Jesse’s pillow, lie in his spot and pleasure himself thinking about Jesse.  

His cock twitches at the thought, and he slides his hand down to palm himself. He bites back a moan, mindful that Jesse is indeed on the other side of the door and could come through it at any moment. If he were to indulge, it would have to be in the confines of the bathroom where he knows he would not be embarrassingly walked in on.

Still, he continues palming himself in long, slow, torturous movements.

Upon hearing the lock on the bathroom door, Hanzo’s arm flies from between his legs to rest next to his shoulder and he closes his eyes, an attempt to still be asleep. He hears the door close again, but does not hear any footsteps. Is Jesse just standing there?

The seconds tick past and he has no idea what Jesse is doing or even where he is. If Jesse is watching him, surely it is obvious by now that he is indeed awake. He tries to quash that down, but finds himself fighting it, and the curiosity of discovering where Jesse is is getting to him. So he feigns waking up, even going to the effort of groaning, curling in on himself before opening his eyes slowly. His eyes settle on Jesse’s empty spot, before he pulls his head up, seeing Jesse standing in the bathroom doorway. So he was staring after all.

“Mornin’,” Jesse says, flashing a confident grin even though Hanzo can hear the hint of dread in his voice. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Hanzo sits up and takes a good look at Jesse. Behind the smile, concern is written all over his face; his eyes are wide, cheeks are red, and he is digging his thumb of his flesh hand into the palm of his prosthetic. A tell for embarrassment, perhaps. Then Hanzo will spare him any more. “No, you did not wake me.”

“Good,” he breathes, nodding. He looks from Hanzo to the suitcase and approaches it, pulling out a light grey undershirt and sliding it on. “I’m gonna make a cup of coffee before breakfast, you in?”

“Please,” Hanzo says with a smile. Jesse flashes a thumbs up and exits the bedroom, and it is only until he can hear Jesse using the taps in the kitchen where Hanzo flicks the blankets off him and runs for the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He looks at the tent in his sweats with a raised eyebrow before closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing; an attempt to put a cap on his arousal.

But his brain, his trusty, overactive imagination, pulls Jesse’s red cheeks and embarrassment together and supplies him with the image of Jesse pleasuring himself in here.

Eyes sliding closed, Hanzo cannot help but chase the thought of Jesse, hunched over the sink and tugging hard and fast, coming undone with Hanzo’s name on his lips. Bordering on painful, Hanzo frees his cock, taking it in his fist and pumping, thoughts now shifting to him and Jesse in bed, Jesse’s hand wrapped around his cock, pressing kisses to Hanzo’s neck and shoulder while Jesse fucks him.

He bites his lip, an effort to keep his volume down as he comes, catching his release in his hand. While not the first time he has given in and thought about Jesse while masturbating, this is the first time he has imagined sleeping with him.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Hanzo knows now, more than ever, that he needs to act on his feelings. If the little sleepy preview in the bedroom proved anything, it is that Jesse at least shares the same feelings.

With renewed determination, he will speak to Jesse about how he feels about him.

* * *

Hanzo does not speak to Jesse about his feelings.

Every time he thinks he can, he backs away. Doubts swirl in his mind, that Jesse does not have the same feelings, that the flirting and touching is all for the mission, that the cuddle and kiss in bed was Jesse thinking he was with someone else. He does text Genji, though, aptly ignoring the long string of messages he received the day prior, and instead asking about the truth of Jesse’s feelings for him.

It is after the message is sent that he immediately regrets it, not in the ten minutes he spent questioning it. He did receive a message back from Genji almost immediately, and ignored it, too embarrassed to read the reply.

He and Jesse then went about their day, exploring the city. They stopped in at Monte Carlo Casino to try their hand at Blackjack and Poker, and left with triple than what they went in with.

And, of course, Genji did not stop at the one text. Hanzo received several over the course of the day, and he is still yet to look at them, even after they retreated back to the hotel, ordered an early room service dinner and got ready for the mission.

Hanzo, freshly showered and shaved, exits the bathroom in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. “All yours,” he says to Jesse, sitting on the bed and buried in his phone.

“Thankin’ ya kindly,” he absently replies, placing his phone on the nightstand after a moment. He looks at Hanzo and winks, and Hanzo notices the way Jesse’s eyes dip to take in his shirtless form as he walks past.

Hanzo drops his head and cannot contain the smirk, feeling a sense of giddiness that Jesse checked him out. 

And with that thought, Hanzo finally grabs his phone from the nightstand and reads his silly question and Genji’s texts:

**To: Genji** 09:58  
>> _Would Jesse be interested in me romantically?_

**Genji** 09:58   
>>Is it possible you have seen the light?

**Genji** 10.03  
>>What happened? Does this have to do with the fact you are sharing a bed?

**Genji** 10:26  
>>I am assuming you have not fucked him, then.

**Genji** 12:57  
>> Anija _please_ answer me. I need details!

**Genji**  15:02  
>>Anija!! Stop ignoring me!

Hanzo shakes his head, typing up his reply:

**To: Genji** 18:11  
>> _Pretending to be married to him, touching him has left me wanting it for real. Please just answer my question._

Placing his phone on the nightstand, Hanzo can say that he is about as anxious as he was getting into bed last night. His stomach flutters, a mix of giddiness and dread roil around; hoping Genji will say yes, but preparing himself for a no. Sighing, he does his best to push it aside; not thinking any more about it until Genji responds.

Opening his suit bag, he pulls out his suit and drapes it over the bed. When he hears the shower on in the bathroom, Hanzo slips out of his sweats, folding them and placing them back in his suitcase before pulling out a fresh pair of boxer-briefs, slipping them on before sliding on the shirt and buttoning it up.

Hanzo looks at the phone and purses his lips; of course, this is the one time Genji does not reply immediately.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he pushes that to the back of his mind. Only an hour from the start of the fashion show, it is imperative for him to put on the persona of Reo before they leave the room. He opens the brief on his phone and reads it over and over as he dresses, getting into the mind of someone who is more arrogant, more snarky than Hanzo allows himself to be; a man who does not care about the thoughts of those around him.

A man who is very much in love with his husband and has the liberties to touch him and show affection.

Finally dressed, he looks at his reflection in the mirror, smoothing his hands down his waist and tugging on the hem of the jacket. He straightens his tie, pulls on the sleeves of his shirt and adjusts the cuffs before giving a nod to his reflection.

He knocks on the bathroom door, he can hear the sound of water sloshing in the sink; no doubt Jesse is shaving. “The bedroom is yours,” he calls out, looking at Jesse’s dark brown suit draped over the bed.

“Thanks. I’m nearly done in here anyways.”

With a nod, Hanzo picks up his phone and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Taking a seat at the table, he looks at the footage from the cameras they set up. Each feed is unremarkable, just showing people going about their day, and he supposes that Genji and Lena are also analysing the footage, perhaps checking in with Fareeha with regards to security as people arrive for the show. He should not be concerned that Genji has not replied to his message.

Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and goes over his plans for handling the fashion show. His aim, being a buyer, is to watch the show and interact with designers between being within earshot whenever Maximilien and Rinaldi are together. He will have to have frequent check-ins with Jesse as they will not be able to communicate over comms for very long, and discussions will require closeness, perhaps with playful touching.

He can do that. A touch to the shoulder, the arm, hand holding. It will all be manageable. Reo is married to Joel, these things will be required for the mission. If there is some truth behind the touching—a twinkle in his eyes and a warmness in his chest when he looks at Jesse—then it will only sell the part.

Opening his eyes, he looks at the wedding ring on the table. He picks it up, rolling it between thumb and forefinger before slipping it on the ring finger of his right hand. Even though he has been wearing it for the last couple of days, he can feel the weight of it, understands the significance of it. He opted to wear it on his right hand considering Jesse could only wear it on his right hand, and said that Reo would want that connection with Joel, that sense of sameness.

Hanzo would be lying if he did not think that if given the opportunity, he would wear the ring on his right hand in real life. He will have to ask Ana if he can keep the ring.

But first, he needs to tell Jesse how he feels.

And with that thought, his phone pings. He looks at it, and it is a message from Genji.

**Genji** 18:28  
>>Fucking YES, Hanzo. He wants you. Will you fucking listen to me now? I’ve only been saying it for MONTHS.

Hanzo’s stomach just about flips reading that, and he has no time to process it as the bedroom door opens behind him. He places his phone face-down on the table and looks at Jesse, staring in awe as he steps into the living area.

“I hope you’re ready for a whole heap of complaining.” Jesse opens the jacket, revealing the waistcoat underneath. “This thing’s so tight I can barely breathe. I feel damn naked without Peacekeeper, and the steak knife in my boot’s gonna do jack if I _actually_ need it.”

“You look good though.”

Jesse’s eyes snap to meet Hanzo’s, smirk teasing his lips. “Can’t argue with that.” He pulls the pair of brown gloves tucked under his arm and slides them on, and there is no telling that one of Jesse’s arms is prosthetic under the suit, before buttoning up his jacket. “There,” he says, adjusting his stance to stand shoulder width apart, one hand over the buttons, the other by his side. “How do I look.”

Hanzo smirks, standing up and approaching Jesse. “I think you look good. You fit the role well, you will blend in easily. Reo on the other hand...” He places his hands on Jesse’s chest, smoothing over his lapels and trying not to get _too_ excited about the feel of solid muscle underneath. His eyes snap to meet Jesse’s, noting the way his lips are parted, how his pupils are blown wide, and he wonders if it is too forward for Reo to kiss his husband. In public, perhaps, but within the confines of their room, when there is no need for it, he decides against it. “Reo thinks you are hot,” he says as he stands back, twirls his hand to get Jesse to turn around.

Jesse waggles his eyebrows and turns, his back to Hanzo now, and he cannot help revelling in how the suit shows his trim waist, before allowing his eyes to fall even further, noting how the pants perfectly capture the curve of his ass.

“I reckon my ass looks _amazing_ in these pants, too.”

Hanzo’s eyes flit to meet Jesse’s realising he was looking from over his shoulder. Amazing does not seem fit enough to describe his ass. Extraordinary and perfect are better descriptors, but he keeps those to himself. “Reo agrees,” Hanzo says eventually.    

“Just Reo?”

Hanzo opens his mouth to speak, yet cannot find words. It is now or never, he tells himself, to tell Jesse how he feels. But looking at his face, Hanzo mentally hits the abort button and takes another step back. “We should check in before we head down.”

“‘Course,” Jesse replies, turning around.

Taking a seat at the table, Hanzo frowns, scolding himself for chickening out, and opens the case containing their comms. He places one in his ear, waits for Jesse to place his in before enabling the encryption and jammers on the tablet and commencing the call.

“Reo, Joel,” Winston’s voice booms through the comms, “how are things?”

“Good,” Jesse replies. “We’re just about to head down.”

“Excellent. Open comms at all times, Genji and Lena will be monitoring from a distance and will be in contact with Fareeha who is overseeing Helix on the ground.”

“ _Just a reminder that I won’t be on the floor,_ ” Fareeha announces, “ _but my people will be at points on the perimeter and just outside the room. Basic security, making sure no one tries to enter without an invitation, mostly._ "

“Coulda hired anyone for that,” Jesse replies.

“ _We thought the same thing, but security is security, I guess. If you spot anything out of the ordinary, I’ll make sure you have my people on your backs._ ”

“Got it,” Jesse breathes. “Genji, Lena, make sure you let us know if you see anything.”

“ _Of course, love!_ ”

Jesse places a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, prompting him to look up. “Anything else, Han?”

“I do not believe so.”

“Okay,” Winston says, “then the mission is on. Remember, watch and report, do not act unless absolutely necessary. We cannot bust in, and it will take Lena and Genji time to get to you.”

“We’re not expecting much to happen anyways,” Jesse replies. “Okay, Reo, ready to go?”

“I am, Joel.”

“Be safe,” Winston replies, and the call is disconnected. They pack away the equipment, and once done, Hanzo offers his elbow. Jesse smirks and takes it, and together they walk to the elevator. He is completely mindful of the fact they are being watched by the cameras he placed, by _Genji_ , and is thankful he can remain professional through this. Though, no doubt Genji will give his analysis at some point in the near future.

They take the elevator to the ground floor, following the signs to the fashion show, leading them outside. Two security guards watch them approach, and Hanzo hands him his phone containing the invitation. “Reo Nakayama-Morricone, buyer for Zeitaku.” The guard looks over the invitation and nods, handing it back, before looking at Jesse.

“Joel Morricone-Nakayama, journalist,” Jesse says, handing his phone over.

The security gives it a glance, looks up at them and winks; an acknowledgement they are with Helix. He stands to the side, and Hanzo leads Jesse through, crossing the bridge and climbing the steps, standing on the landing.  

Hanzo takes a moment to smooth his hands over his suit before placing one hand in his pocket, putting on the air of arrogance Reo is built on. He looks inside, from the gathering of people dotted around the room to the wait staff with trays of champagne and _hors-d'oeuvres_. Jesse stands to his left, adjusting the cuff of his shirt.

“Ready, dear,” Hanzo says, looking at Jesse.

He looks down at Hanzo, waggling his eyebrows and offering his elbow. “Don’t worry about me, darlin’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["Ready, dear?" "Don't worry about me, darlin'."](https://nurtarts.tumblr.com/post/177174741192/title-suit-up-rating-explicit-tags-undercover)
> 
> [And a little close-up](https://nurtarts.tumblr.com/post/177174929617/chilliebean5s-mccree-has-freckles-and-i-nearly) cause everyone needs to appreciate Jesse's freckles, and those shoes truly are :ok_hand:
> 
> What's a Chillie fic without a cake slathered in strawberries and cream? XD I present to you, the [Monaco Millefeuille.](https://www.internationalcuisine.com/monaco-fraise-millefeuille/)
> 
> The sleepy cuddle scene is easily one of my favourite scenes from this fic, and when writing it, all I could think was what was going through Jesse's mind at the time. So I wrote the scene from Jesse's perspective, [which you can read here](https://chilliebean5.tumblr.com/post/178000072016/suit-up-b-side) :D


	4. Shindig

“Joel, Reo!”

“Elodie.”

Elodie greets them, a tray of champagne in her hands. “You look good! Best dressed couple here!”

“Well I don’t know about _that_ ,” Jesse says with a chuckle. “But I can tell you that Reo is, without a doubt, lookin’ _gorgeous_ tonight.”

“Please,” Hanzo nonchalantly says with the wave of his hand, even though his heart skips a beat. “Joel is too kind.” He places his hand in the centre of Jesse’s chest. “ _H_ _e_ is absolutely stunning.”

“Cutest couple, too.” Elodie extends the tray, they both take a glass. “But I’m telling you, best dressed here. You’ve got a good mix of classic and modern which balances out perfectly. She leans in closer, bringing her voice down. “There’s a guy with a cravat here. A _cravat!_ And a colour-clashing suit which is just ugh!”

Jesse stifles a laugh. “You cannot be serious.”

“Yep, right over there,” she points to a man in a red blazer with navy blue pants.

“Red,” Hanzo says with disgust, “is an atrocious suit colour.”

“Tell me about it,” Elodie replies flatly. “But he is one of the designers and I am sure we are going to see a _host_ of gross colours.” She looks past them for a moment before looking back. “Anyway, got more drinks to serve. You need anything, just let me know,” she says with a wink.

Hanzo lifts his glass in toast before she walks away, taking a sip. He looks around the room, the quiet murmur of conversation is only slightly louder than the jazzy piano playing, and if Hanzo had to guess, he and Jesse are possibly the last to arrive. He analyses at the small groups of people, and every person he looks at is possibly more pretentious than the last, before settling on Rinaldi and Maximilien. Hanzo clears his throat, squeezes Jesse’s bicep to get his attention, and when Jesse looks at him, Hanzo tilts his head in Rinaldi’s direction.

Jesse hums, following Hanzo’s gaze before looking around the room. “Showtime,” he whispers in Hanzo’s ear. He leads Hanzo close enough to them to be within earshot of their conversation without making it too obvious they are eavesdropping.

“...so glad you made it!” Rinaldi says with excitement.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Maximilien responds, sounding slightly hollow and forced. Perhaps he has been ordered here.

“I am sure you will not be disappointed. I can see you have excellent taste in suits,” Rinaldi takes a moment to look at Maximilien’s suit, “and there are many designers who are keen to expand into the omnic market. With you at the forefront, this will be an excellent collaboration indeed.”

“We are very much looking forward to it,” Maximilien says, holding up his glass in toast.

Rinaldi is then interrupted by one of his staff, whispering in his ear. He nods, then looks at Maximilien as the staff member pulls away. “If you will excuse me, I have something to attend to.”

“Of course.”

Rinaldi leaves with the staff member and Maximilien is immediately accosted by a woman, she introduces herself as a journalist for her fashion blog.  

“Max at the forefront?” Jesse whispers. “The fuck does that even mean? Sounds like he is goin’ to model the suits himself.”

“I am more intrigued by the collaboration he hinted at. And the ‘ _we_ ’ he used.”

“I assume he means Talon.”

“Perhaps. And that implies that they have indeed met prior to this.”

“Yep,” Jesse says, exhaling. “It’s all right, I’ll ask Rinaldi a few questions after the show, see if I shake somethin’ loose.”

“Esteemed guests,” Rinaldi announces, standing on the runway. “The runway show will be starting in five minutes, so please take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the seating in front of the stage.

“A’ight, phase two,” Jesse breathes. “I was thinkin’ of hanging back, sitting at the bar. See if they got anything nicer than fermented grapes on the menu.” He looks at the glass of champagne which appears untouched and wrinkles his nose. “Also keep an eye on the room from a distance, see if anyone’s acting suspicious.”

“Not a bad idea.”

Jesse smiles, places a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “Then I’ll see you in a bit,” he says, before leaning down and kissing Hanzo on the cheek.

Hanzo literally feels the air get knocked out of his lungs. Jesse’s lips are soft, the kiss is gentle, and it is over far too soon. He looks into Jesse’s eyes when he pulls away, so warm and inviting, before flitting down to his lips, and the urge to lean in and kiss him is stronger than before. It would be so easy, so quick to curl his hand around the back of Jesse’s neck, pull him down into a kiss, their first kiss, but realises that would be absurd, that he is on a mission and that kissing Jesse as _Hanzo_ , not Reo, is something that can wait.

So, instead, Hanzo pulls his hand away and nods. “After the show.”

Jesse gives a curt nod, clears his throat and stands at full height. His hand remains on Hanzo’s shoulder, though, longer than it has any need to, and Jesse tightens his grip momentarily before taking it back. He glances past Hanzo, gestures with the flick of his head. “Might wanna grab a seat before it’s taken.”

Looking over his shoulder, Hanzo sees a few available seats close to where Rinaldi and Maximilien are standing. He looks back at Jesse, gives a small smile before approaching the seating. He pauses, only to down the entire glass of champagne and wincing at the sheer volume, before placing it on the tray of a passing waitperson.

Hanzo walks down the aisle separating the two sections of seating. Of course, Rinaldi and Maximilien, who are now seated, are front and centre, and there is a single free seat to Maximilien’s right, beside the aisle. It is not until Hanzo approaches that he notices that the person on his right is cravat man, and Hanzo gives him a good, long side glance as he sits, wrinkling his nose at the yellow cravat he is wearing.

Shaking his head and crossing one leg over the other before pretending to sweep non-existent fluff off his knee, he listens to Rinaldi and Maximilien’s conversation. They are complaining about the abundance of ‘idiotic and moronic’ tourists crowding the streets at the passing Monaco Grand Prix, and Hanzo deems it not noteworthy, so he takes the moment to process what almost happened between him and Jesse.

Or at least he tries to, but he is interrupted by Jesse’s hushed voice over the comms. “ _Y’a’int gonna believe this. They only have fermented grapes on the menu._ ” There is a pause, Hanzo presumes Jesse is waiting for a reply from him, which of course he has no intentions to considering he cannot without drawing attention to himself. “ _Champagne and wine,_ ” Jesse continues. “ _Only two drinks. Three, I guess, if you count red and white as bein’ different._ ”

Hanzo cannot help the smile that blooms on his lips. Jesse possibly hates wine more than champagne. Perhaps after the mission, he will take Jesse out for drinks, buy him a glass or two of some top-shelf whiskey.

“ _Can’t believe they don’t even have whiskey at this shindig._ ”

 _This is a bit more than a shindig_ , Hanzo thinks to himself, biting his tongue so he does not actually utter the words. He peeks over his shoulder, and at least Jesse is alone and not drawing attention to himself as he breaks radio silence. Jesse does catch him though, holding out the glass of champagne which appears to be drunk out of.

“ _This is about to break in my hand._ ”

Hanzo turns away from Maximilien slightly, covering his hand with his mouth. “Will you be complaining the _entire_ night?” he snaps, ending the statement with a fake cough.

“ _I’m way out of my comfort zone and I can’t even get a glass of whiskey. You know the answer to that one, sweetheart._ ”

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, the only reason why Hanzo does not retort is because the overhead lights dim. Music starts, something fast paced that Hanzo does not really care for before the first models appear on the runway. There is not a lot of time to really think as the blur from each model in a different suit by different designers pass him by. The show appears to be a timeline of suit designs, starting with the elegant, classic styles of the black-and-white tuxedo, to the more modern offerings of today.

Then, cravat man next to him perks up when his designs come on stage, and Elodie’s predictions about colour-clashing was spot on; with suits of fire orange and lime green, magenta and fluoro yellow, cobalt blue and white—credit where credit is due, this combination did not look too bad—before the final model walks on stage in a tweed suit—seriously, who in this day and age wears tweed—in an abhorrent dull brown and pastel purple.

Cover or not, Hanzo will not waste his time talking to the man.

The lights brighten again and Hanzo can say that he is left with a bad taste in his mouth after that final display. Rinaldi stands up, takes a small set of stairs to get onto the runway and addresses the crowd.

“Thank you all for your attention. Please, mingle with each other and if any collaborations should happen, Rinaldi is spelled with one ‘n’,” he says with a chuckle, earning a hearty laugh from the crowd. “But please, enjoy yourselves,” he says before stage bowing.

The room erupts in applause as he stands at full height, and when it dies down he descends the stairs and is immediately swarmed by journalists looking for an interview.

“What did you think of this evening’s proceedings?”

Hanzo looks to his left, Maximilien is looking at him. “I enjoyed myself,” Hanzo responds coolly. “My store deals with the more classical options in suit attire, so I will be talking with those designers.”

“Yes, I do prefer a more classical look.” Maximilien smooths a hand over his chest. “What is the name of your store? I would like to browse your offerings.”

“Zeitaku, located in Tokyo.”

“Of course,” Maximilien says with a chuckle. “I will have to stop in on my next visit to Japan.”

Hanzo merely smiles and nods. Hopefully the visit is not too soon.

Maximilien then extends his hand. "Maximilien."

"Reo," Hanzo says, shaking it. He seizes the opportunity to press a little for information. "Are you here on business also?"

"I was invited as a personal request by Matteo. We have entered a... collaboration, and was invited to the show."

"Omnic models?" Hanzo asks, feigning ignorance.

"Not quite," Maximilien chuckles. He leans in, saying, "I am bound by a non-disclosure agreement, I am sure you understand."

Hanzo smiles. "Of course."

Maximilien then stands up, buttoning up his jacket. "Tokyo," he says, and Hanzo stands and nods. "If you will excuse me, I was told the bar stocks Old Glenwales 2030, the finest you can find."

"Of course," Hanzo repeats, watching as Maximilien navigates the crowd and heads to the bar. His eyes flit to Jesse, who is having a conversation with Rinaldi, and when Jesse makes eye contact, Hanzo gestures outside with the subtle tilt of his head. He does not look back until he is outside, picking up another glass of champagne on the way. Jesse gives a hearty laugh, loud enough to be heard over the crowd and catches Hanzo’s attention, he slides his phone in his pocket before Rinaldi excuses himself, turning to Maximilien and they share another conversation.

Jesse approaches slowly, a glass of what appears to be whiskey in his hands, and Hanzo cannot contain his smile.

“I thought you said they did not serve whiskey."

"Elodie is a godsend." Jesse takes a sip and practically groans. "I am gonna _indulge_ in this while we're here. This is some good shit right here," he says, looking into his glass.

"I see you had a conversation with our esteemed host?"

"And I saw you had a conversation with his 'guest of honour'."

" _Yeah, thanks for that_ ," Lena's voice chirps over the comms. " _Couldn't have done that separately, hey?_ "

"Did you discuss anything of note?" Hanzo asks.

"Naw, just said he was relieved his first show went off without a hitch, and that he is excited for his new partnership, which he didn't discuss any further."

"Maximilien said the same thing," Hanzo says, taking a sip of champagne. "Whatever it is, they are not going to talk to anyone about it."

"Smarter than we give 'em credit for."

" _We've relayed both conversations to the big guy,_ " Lena says, " _and we'll let you know the next plan of attack. But it seems like this is a dead end."_

Hanzo nods, looking back into the room. Maximilien is talking to someone else now who stands at least a foot taller than him, and Rinaldi is nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, Hanzo takes another sip of champagne, watching as a server with a tray of something pink on cucumber slices approaches them.

"Salmon mousse," he says, offering the tray.

Hanzo takes one, bowing his head. "Thank you."

Jesse, on the other hand, holds up his hand. "Not for me, thanks."

The waiter bows his head and leaves for the next group of people.

Hanzo places the entire thing in his mouth, and just tastes like salmon and cucumber, with a subtle kick from something spicy. He looks at Jesse, who is looking back at him with a wrinkled nose. "What?" he asks after he has swallowed.

"Salmon ain't meant to be in mousse form."

"I would have figured you would have been one of those 'food is food' types of people."

"Usually, yeah, when things are in their correct form. I'm just waitin' for the little hamburgers."

Hanzo has to suppress a snort. "I do not think they will be serving little hamburgers here."

"Mini hamburgers," a waitress Hanzo had not seen approach says cheerily. She has a sly grin on her face, like she was waiting for the moment.

"Please," Jesse says, taking one, popping it in his mouth before taking a second.

Hanzo looks at him, mildly annoyed by his behaviour which is very clearly Jesse, yet at the same time is not surprising in the slightest. "Thank you," Hanzo says, taking one. And of course, before she leaves, Jesse takes a third. "Really?" Hanzo asks, deadpan.

"They're good. And look at 'em, little burger buns and burger and cheese, even with this baby dill pickle. They're tiny and they’re adorable."

Hanzo cannot help but smile. He looks at the burger, holding it between thumb and forefinger, "They are adorable," he says before popping the entire burger in his mouth. They are also delicious, and now he is regretting his decision not to grab a second. Then he has a realisation. "Elodie."

"Yep, she told me they were comin'. That, and I saw the server comin’. But we’ve got some absolutely delicious sounding desserts on the way, too," he says with a wink.

“Would they be normal sized?” Hanzo ponders, “Or small also?”

Jesse holds out his hand, his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “Teensy!”

“ _If you two are done comparing sizes,_ " Genji says, deadpan, " _Winston says to see out the rest of the evening, gather what you can and try to enjoy yourselves. It seems like this was a bust anyway._ "

Jesse brings his glass up to his lips. "Ain't that a shame," he says, before taking a sip.

Hanzo hums, taking a sip of his champagne. He looks at the darkening sky, and the vibrant orange streaky clouds; the first hints of dusk are starting to take hold. The air is still warm, though, and leaves him wanting to take off his jacket; something he would do if the evening were not so formal. "Warm night," he says, looking at Jesse.

"You're tellin' me. At least you've got one layer, I've got three. I can't wait ‘till I take this thing off me," he complains, pulling back his jacket to reveal his waistcoat.

Hanzo only smiles, looking at Jesse's waist. He should get a picture of Jesse, use it as proof that he can dress up well, _and_ look good while doing it.

"M'eyes are up here, sweetheart," Jesse says, and Hanzo's eyes flick up to meet his. When Jesse winks, he tries his hardest to fight his biological response to embarrassment, but fails dismally, and is sure he is as bright as a tomato. "I must look _damn_ fine if you can't stop starin' at me."

"As I said in the hotel," Hanzo says, bringing his voice down low and taking a step forward, "you are quite attractive all dressed up. _Especially_ in a proper," he places a finger on Jesse's chest, dragging it down slowly while looking up at him, "fitted suit." He smirks when he sees Jesse's Adam's apple bob as he swallows, and when he looks into Jesse's eyes, his warm, dark eyes, he realises this is the moment, the _perfect_ time to kiss him.

Jesse seems to have the same idea, as his hand ends up on the small of Hanzo’s back and he is pulled in close. Jesse leans down slowly, and Hanzo finds himself drawn in, placing a hand on Jesse's shoulder so he can stand on his toes. He looks from Jesse's eyes to his lips then back again, and he is so _close_ now, so close that he can feel Jesse's exhale on his lips. His nose brushes against Jesse's cheek, and they hold still. Hanzo's stomach flutters, he leans in closer to brush his lips against Jesse's and just when he feels that first tingle, Jesse pulls away fast, frowning. The flutter turns to dread, and Hanzo takes a step back.

"I am sorry, I misjudged the—"

"Did you hear that?"

Hanzo looks at Jesse, following his gaze to look into the room. "Hear what?"

Jesse holds a hand up, and Hanzo searches for someone out of the ordinary, not that he knows _who_ to look for. No one stands out.

"Jesse, please talk to me."

"There!" His eyes are trained on a person; the same person Maximilien was talking to earlier. Tall, thin, short red hair, they do not appear out of the ordinary. It seems Jesse is waiting for confirmation and when the person—a woman—turns around, Jesse seems to have his answer, if the sudden turning away and covering of his mouth is any indication. "I thought it was only supposed to be Max here!" he growls.

" _I_ _t is. Who's there, Jesse?"_ Lena asks, her concern traverses the comms and settles with the panic and dread in the pit of Hanzo’s stomach.

"Fuckin'—She's coming in close, she can't see us." Jesse places his hand on Hanzo's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Hanzo, I really am," is all he says before he leans in and presses his lips to Hanzo's.

Well, so much for the perfect first kiss. Not that he would call this crashing of lips a kiss. Jesse seems to realise his error though, because he does soften his lips, and next thing Hanzo knows is he is kissing back. He hears the softest whimpers from Jesse, and at this moment, he decides to keep the kiss shallow and not get lost in the moment, because they are on a mission, and there is apparently someone here who has Jesse so concerned that he has to hide behind a kiss.

If only he could stop it. He feels himself slipping, giving in and _making_ it their first kiss, and oh how he wants to just lick Jesse's lips, roll his tongue in his mouth, actually _kiss_ him, but he knows if he does that, he would end up on a slippery slope of _desire_ and _need_ , and he really needs to keep sharp and stay alert for whoever it is Jesse is hiding from.

When the kiss finally does recede though, he finds himself reluctant to pull away. Jesse presses one kiss to his cheek, another to his forehead before taking a step back, and Hanzo _aches_ for more contact, a hug, _something_ to not let this moment end.

"She's gone," Jesse says, voice a near whisper as he takes a step back. He looks at the whiskey in his glass and decides to drink the lot, wincing as he swallows. "Wicked Witch of the West," is all he says, voice rough, placing his glass on a nearby table.

" _What?! Are you sure, Jesse?_ " Lena asks with that same concern from earlier.

"Certain. Would stake my hat on it."

" _Okay. Okay. I'll contact Winston, see if I can get an extraction or something._ "

"Might be worth us just walkin' on outta here. If she sees me, our cover's blown."

"Who?" Hanzo says, placing a hand on Jesse's forearm. Whoever it is they are talking about, whatever codename 'Wicked Witch of the West' is, it is something Hanzo has not come across, not in mission files, nor in conversation. "If _who_ sees us?"

"Oh, cowboy, your cover was blown long ago."

Hanzo looks past Jesse, settling on the woman standing behind him, single eyebrow raised and arms folded across her chest. Adrenaline courses through Hanzo’s veins upon seeing her face, and while Hanzo has never seen her face-to-face, he is aware of her image in Overwatch’s database. She is surprisingly taller than Jesse, pale and thin, almost gaunt. She is wearing a black pantsuit with a black shirt underneath, a few of the buttons are undone showing off her chest. She has a boutonniere of blue and white orchids on her lapel and crimson lipstick, the only makeup she appears to be wearing.

"Moira," Jesse grounds out as he turns around. "Fashion show, huh? Didn't think that was Talon's thing."

"It's not," she says offhandedly, looking at the long, red fingernails on her left hand—her _purple_ left hand. "But we have this collaboration with Rinaldi, you see. He has something we _need_ , and as a trade-off, I have to pretend to be his friend when he invites us to things which are well and truly beneath me." She gestures at the room with her right hand. "And we just have to play along."

"Well, he must have something of interest if it's dragged you from your cave."

"Oh, how _original_. Still with the witch jokes? Are you going to ask if I flew here on my broomstick?” She laughs. “The years haven't changed you much, have they, Jesse?"

Hanzo sees Jesse's fingers curl on the corner of his eye, and looks at him to see that grin, that one he always flashes when he is frustrated. He places a hand on Jesse's wrist, and Jesse stands up straight, balling his hands into fists.

"So if you knew we would be here,” Jesse says slowly, “then why didn't you bail?"

"Like I said, what Rinaldi has is worth more than what your little _illegal_ Overwatch can do.” She looks behind them, gesturing with the tilt of her head. “Even more than what the brave agents of Helix can do."

" _She's right,"_ Lena says over the comms, " _there's nothing we can do. We can't arrest her 'cause she's done nothing wrong. Best thing we can do is wait and see what happens. Sorry boys, you're on your own._ "

Hanzo inhales and exhales deeply, looking at Moira. "So you took the risk to come, _thinking_ that we don't have information on you to arrest you on the spot?"

Her gaze shifts to Hanzo, and she looks him up and down. "Ah, Shimada Hanzo. Is this why you turned us down, so you could follow your brother and do the world some good?" She shifts her weight to the other foot, pushes her jacket back to place a hand on her hip. "The offer still stands, you know? A person with your talents is always welcome in Talon."

"If you _think_ I would _ever_ join your operation, then you are sorely mistaken."

Moira merely shrugs. "What is an illegal operation next to a legitimate one?"

"You are terrorists!"

"Hanzo, stand down, it ain't worth it."

Hanzo looks at Jesse and takes a breath, realising that uttering such words in a public place is probably not the best thing to do. He looks back at Moira, unclenching his hands.

"I saw your little kiss. I even saw your almost real kiss,” she says with a sly grin. “It was a shame to interrupt it, but I needed to make a grand entrance."

"Han," Jesse says, gripping Hanzo's wrist. "Trust me, just let it go."

He leers at Moira through narrowed eyes, then looks at Jesse. He nods, he relaxes every muscle in his body before looking back at her.

"Look at you," she says in a mocking tone, looking him up and down slowly. "You're nothing but a lapdog, now. I cannot believe the once mighty, once _proud_ _kumichō_ of the Shimada clan allows himself to be ordered around by a man-child with a cowboy fixation.” She looks between them, twisted smile on her lips. “It’s pathetic."

"You are lucky I do not have a weapon on my person," Hanzo seethes, "because if I did, you would be dead before you hit the ground."

"There you are," she coos, leaning down to meet his height. She looks into his eyes and in turn, he bores into hers, analysing her dichromatic blue and brown irises. "I was wondering when you'd reveal yourself. It seems all it takes is making fun of the cowboy."

"Okay, that's enough!" Jesse orders, physically pulling Hanzo away and standing between them. He rests both hands on his shoulders and does not speak until Hanzo is looking into his eyes, his gorgeous chestnut brown eyes which are full of concern. "Han, I really need you to listen to me. Don't feed off of her. This is what she does, gets under your skin, manipulates you into doin' shit you think you're in control of. She's dangerous, Han, probably the most dangerous out of the lot of them."

"That's quite the compliment, Jesse," she says, amused.

“And right now,” Jesse growls, turning to face her, “I don’t give a _rats_ if you haven’t done anything wrong, and I ain’t above hittin’ you.”

Moira laughs. "Always so violent, Jesse.” She grabs her phone out of her pocket, grin on her face. “Tell you what, because you were always my _favourite_ , I'll let you in on a secret. There are four Talon agents inside, all of whom have canisters of a neurotoxin.” She looks down at her phone and taps away at it. “And I have given them the order to release the gas. In thirty seconds, people will start to feel the effects, and in two minutes, it will be fatal. So you can either come after me,” she places a hand on her chest, and her tone turns mocking again as she finishes, “or help those poor, helpless civilians inside.”

Hanzo looks inside, seeing a purple gas being emitted from a canister beside the door. Adrenaline courses through his veins, it seems no one has noticed yet. “Jesse, we need to go.” He pulls on Jesse’s arm but he does not move. Hanzo looks at him, and the look on his face can only be described as animalistic, there is a ferociousness in his eyes, his teeth are bared. “Jesse!”

Screams can be heard from the room, and people start racing out, pushing past with no regard to the three of them. The Helix guards standing by the gate move in, and Moira laughs, a hollow, mocking laugh, as she takes a step back.

“Slán,” she says with a wave, before disappearing in the crowd.

“Lena,” Jesse growls, turning to face the room. “Tell me you got all that.”

“ _W_ _e did_ ,” Winston’s voice booms on the comms. “ _Do what you can to get those people out of there. Forget Moira._ ”

Jesse sprints to the door, holding it open, and Hanzo drops his champagne flute and races to open the other. “Okay, everyone, out!” People pour out now, hands over their mouths and noses, some of them coughing uncontrollably. The canister beside the door is kicked out and rolls around outside, but after a few moments, it stops emitting the gas.

“ _Fareeha has contacted law enforcement, police, ambulances and the CDC are on the way,_ ” Winston continues. _“Do not go in there, Jesse, do you understand?”_

“Yeah, I know,” Jesse growls.

“ _Same for you, Hanzo_.”

“Understood,” Hanzo replies absently, looking into the room. Most people have been evacuated, and then his heart drops. “There is someone passed out on the floor.”

“I can get to them,” Jesse says, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.

“ _Stand down,_ ” Ana orders. “ _Until we determine what is in those canisters, you cannot take the risk._ ”

“Ana—”

“ _No! Law enforcement have arrived. If the room is clear, get yourselves to safety._ ”

It takes a moment of Hanzo pulling on Jesse’s arm to get him to move, following the last of the crowd out the gate and onto the street.

“Can we at least help the cops?” Jesse asks, desperate.

“ _No,”_ Winston answers. “ _We are there against the wishes of the_ _Monégasque_ _government. Maintain your cover, get checked by paramedics and give your statement to police as Joel and Reo. When given the all clear, retreat back to the hotel and maintain the cover until you are back within Gibraltar’s walls. Do you understand?_ ”

“Yes,” Hanzo replies, even though he hates the thought of not being able to do anything. He looks at Jesse, who looks about ready to punch a wall in frustration, placing a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. It breaks him from whatever thoughts he was having and he looks at Hanzo, and for the first time since Moira, his face relaxes, and he gives a thin, tired smile.

“Yeah,” Jesse answers, looking into Hanzo’s eyes. “I understand.”

They stand aside, watching as police, paramedics and CDC all converge on the building. The hotel is placed on lockdown, no one is allowed to enter or leave, and a barricade is set up, drawing the attention of bystanders.

A quarantine tent is set up for victims and while they wait to be checked out by paramedics, Maximilien talks with police and is cleared to leave. Hanzo squeezes Jesse’s hand extra hard as he walks away, convinced that he would break free and chase after him.

Jesse does not move in the slightest.

Rinaldi stays behind, of course, playing the part of gracious-yet-disgusted host extremely well in front of the waiting media. He talks at length about the fashion show, lists the designers by name and how everyone should check their offerings, and that despite this attack, he is not deterred to host another. This earns him a loud applause from not only the people in attendance at the show, but also the curious crowds gathered around them. Rinaldi practically preens, which confirms Hanzo’s suspicions that Rinaldi was in on this little charade, because now _everyone_ will be talking about him and his show.

The cur then takes the time to talk to every one of the victims, offering discounts on their next stay at any Rinaldi Hotel, while the media follow along like sheep, snapping photos and recording video.

News comes back from police not long after that the gas used was an incapacitating agent and the poor soul who was in the room was only asleep. She was pulled from the room, vitals checked and after given oxygen, she woke up. While tests need to be done to find out _what_ chemical it is specifically—Hanzo overheard the same officer mention initial tests showed the compounds were plant-based—whatever it was seemed to cause irritation of the respiratory system, and those affected should recover in a few days.

An hour later, they are given the all clear by paramedics and told to give their statement to police. Jesse goes first, telling them everything minus their discussion with Moira, and Hanzo corroborates that story.

Jesse, slipping easily into his journalistic cover, then asks them questions. They find out that everyone has been accounted for, revealing that while Moira was present, she was not on an official guest list. They reveal that they are checking security footage, will be conducting an investigation with Helix, interviewing all of the waitstaff—those who were caught in the attack and those who were in the kitchens at the time. Considering Elodie is not in quarantine with them, Hanzo guesses she was in the kitchen and had no part in this attack—and that while eighty per cent of the hotel has been checked, so far nothing remarkable has been found, and they do not expect to find anything.

Jesse then presses for information about _who_ did this, without mentioning Talon by name of course, but the police inform him that they cannot discuss any leads at this moment.

“ _We have eyes on Moira_ ,” Lena’s voice breaks over the comms. “ _She’s with Max at Casino Square. Want us to follow?_ ”

“ _Watch and act,_ ” Winston responds. “ _It is too out in the open for us to intervene. Like I said, this is outside our jurisdiction._ ”

Hanzo uses that as his cue to pull Jesse aside and take his hand again. Anger is written all over Jesse’s face, and this time when their eyes meet and Hanzo smiles, he does not. While still in quarantine and the hotel in lockdown, there is nothing that can be done to chase down Moira.

Not long after that, Hanzo overhears the police saying that both the ventilation and water systems of the hotel have been cleared and are free of any of the agent. A final sweep of the entertainment room and the area around it by CDC officers comes back clean, and everyone is given the all clear to leave.

The second the words are uttered, Jesse storms off in the direction of Casino Square. While he seamlessly navigates through the crowd without causing a disturbance, Hanzo wades through it slowly until he is clear.

“Joel,” Hanzo calls, jogging to catch up. Jesse does not slow down, and Hanzo walks in step with him, hand on his elbow. “Jesse. You cannot go out there.”

“I’m mighty fuckin’ frustrated right now, Hanzo, so you best leave me alone. I don’t care what Winston says, I’m goin’ after her.”

“Then I am coming with you.”

Jesse jerks himself free from Hanzo’s grasp. “I can do this on my own,” he growls before he storms off, walking faster than before.

Hanzo finds himself jogging to catch up again. “You are being reckless, and recklessness leads to harm.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do!” Hanzo exclaims, stopping. It takes Jesse a moment to process that statement, but when he does, it stops him in his tracks. “I do,” he repeats, and Jesse turns around. He can hear his pulse in his ears, his heart hammers in his chest. If there ever was a time to tell Jesse how he feels, it might as well be now. “I care if you get hurt, because I care about you. I have cared about you for months now, and I was foolish to not act on my feelings before this.” He searches Jesse’s face for something to indicate his mood, his thoughts, but he is neutral. Too neutral. Hanzo feels his heart sink. “Please, come back to the hotel with me.”

Jesse looks away, his fingers curl by his sides before he digs his thumb into the palm of his prosthetic. They stand in this stalemate, unmoving, Hanzo ready to launch after him if he decides to continue on. He did not get this far, practically confess his love for him only to have Jesse get himself killed.

When Jesse does move, he walks towards Hanzo with quick, heavy steps, crossing the distance in two long strides before cupping his face and kissing him. Caught off guard, it takes Hanzo a moment to recover, placing his hands on Jesse’s hips and pulling him in close. Feeling Jesse’s tongue flick along his lips, Hanzo whimpers, opening his mouth and rolling his tongue, and when he feels the soft slide of Jesse’s against his, he moans softly, curling one hand around the back of his neck.

 _This_ is the first kiss Hanzo had imagined. Something gentle and pure, done on their own time and not for the sake of a cover. For every passing second, each sweep of their tongues, the kiss becomes less cautious and more passionate, and Hanzo has the mind to roll his hips against Jesse, but when a passing car honks its horn several times, Hanzo becomes acutely aware that they are standing on the street and they possibly have an audience.

When the kiss finally recedes, Hanzo opens his eyes and looks into Jesse’s. He pulls away slightly, enough that his nose still brushes against his cheek. He is sure he is grinning madly, and there is nothing that can wipe it from his face.

“You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Jesse whispers, pressing his forehead to Hanzo’s. “Thank you for stoppin’ me, I know I would have stopped at nothin’ till I’d found her.”

“Come back to the hotel,” Hanzo whispers, not wanting to let him go. A small part of him is still convinced that Jesse could walk away at any moment. “Please.”

Jesse nods, presses one final kiss to Hanzo’s lips before sliding his hand down, under his jacket to settle on his lower back. “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slán: Goodbye
> 
> For a short while, I entertained the idea of calling this fic "Panic! At The Fashion Show" just based on this chapter alone XD


	5. Living in the Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter earning the fic it's explicit rating.

They walk back to the hotel hand-in-hand, skin-against-skin as Jesse hastily took off his glove when Hanzo grabbed it. They have a different energy in their steps, a giddiness which replaces the anger from before, and Hanzo's stomach flutters fiercely, hoping that Jesse is on the same page as he for his request to join him back at the hotel.

Hanzo pays no mind to the fact that he confessed his love for Jesse with his comm in, that Genji and the others would have heard it, and that they may have _seen_ the kiss.

He also ignores the niggling wondering thought as to why no one has said anything. He would have expected _something_ from Genji at the very least.

They do not say anything about what happened while they walk. Jesse practically has a vice-like grip on his hand, and Hanzo squeezes back just as hard, not wanting to let him go.

The second they are in the hotel room, Hanzo ditches the comm. If the team want to get in contact with them, they have their phones. And as far as the mission is concerned, they are doing _exactly_ what Winston requested of them, which is to retreat back to the hotel, maintain their cover and remain there until they check out in the morning.

And if Reo and Joel decide on a night of pure, unabashed passion, then that is their right as husbands. They did survive an attempt on their lives, after all.

Jesse tosses his comm on the benchtop alongside Hanzo's, then breaks free to peel off his other glove, placing the pair next to their comms before grabbing the bottle of champagne from the fridge. He makes quick work of opening it, reaching for two tumblers in the cupboard instead of the champagne flutes and pours them to halfway, sliding Hanzo's glass across the benchtop. Hanzo catches it as he watches Jesse down the lot in one gulp, wincing and groaning.

"Fuckin' needed that," he breathes, voice raspy. He opens all of the cupboards, apparently searching for _something._ "Don't know what kind of fuckin' hotel don't have a minibar. I think I might just complain."

"We could have stopped at a liquor store," Hanzo says, taking a modest sip of the champagne.

Jesse clicks his fingers, grinning wide. "I bet room service can bring us up some whiskey." He practically jogs to the coffee table, grabs the tablet and sits down on the couch. Hanzo joins him at his side, drinking his champagne and watching as he looks through a list of liquors. "Reckon Winston will care if I ordered a forty-euro glass of whiskey?"

"Do it," Hanzo says excitedly. "He ordered us back here, and what else are we going to do?"

Jesse looks at Hanzo, sly grin on his face. "Well, I can think of many things, actually."

Smirking and ignoring his half-hard cock, something which has not left him since the kiss, Hanzo takes the tablet off Jesse. He selects the whiskey, then scrolls down and his eyes practically light up, seeing sake. He selects that too, not even caring that the jug is seventy euros and places the order. "Done," he breathes, placing the tablet on the coffee table.

"Big spender."

"I have refined tastes,” Hanzo says, matter-of-fact, looking into his almost empty glass of actually quite nice champagne. “And getting good quality sake in Gibraltar is practically impossible." He finishes the last of the champagne, placing the glass on the table too.

"Cheap whiskey does the job, but sometimes I wanna savour it." Jesse loosens his tie and undoes the first button of his shirt as he stands, taking off his jacket and draping it over the back of a dining chair. He moves on to unbuttoning the waistcoat and Hanzo looks on, a little saddened that this is the end of Jesse in the suit. With an almost silent chuckle, Jesse redoes the top button and sits back down. "Really do like me in this suit, don't you?"

"You look good."

Jesse's smile grows. "How good?"

Hanzo slides closer to Jesse, hand skimming up his waist. "It shows off your trim waist. It is tight in the right places," he slides his hand up to Jesse's biceps, fingertips ghosting the fabric of his shirt. He looks up at Jesse, and he is so close now. "You can pull off a suit very well."

"Just that?" Jesse breathes, voice low.

"You are attractive. So very attractive," Hanzo whispers as leans in slowly. "From your shorter hair,” he combs his fingers through Jesse's hair, “the absence of the beard,” he slides his hand down to Jesse's face, cupping him, “the tighter clothing," he brushes his nose against Jesse's cheek, his lips are achingly close. He inhales slowly, breathing in Jesse’s air and feeling a sense of euphoria, before exhaling just as slowly. "You are handsome," he says, voice barely a whisper as he presses his lips to Jesse's, and the small, happy sounding moan from Jesse only confirms his feelings.

Without breaking the kiss, Jesse shuffles closer and climbs onto Hanzo's lap. The kiss deepens as Hanzo's hands fall to Jesse's hips, and when Jesse rolls his hips slightly, Hanzo groans, heat pooling in his core. He encourages the grinding, pushing and pulling at Jesse’s hips, and swallows down Jesse’s moan. Then, the kiss is broken, and Jesse pulls away to look into Hanzo's eyes.

"You are so fuckin' hot," Jesse breathes. He slides his hands down Hanzo’s lapels. "When you wear a suit, you have a sense of authority, like you were born to wear 'em."

"I used to wear them daily in Japan."

"I look forward to the missions where you wear 'em, cause you look so damn good." He pulls back, looking at Hanzo's jacket. "Even in a suit as odd-looking as this one," he drags his finger along the buttons, "you look so fucking good." His eyes snap to meet Hanzo's. "I've had fantasies about this moment," he murmurs. "Where I'd finally given myself the kick in the ass I needed to tell you how I felt about you, where I could do this," he leans in, kissing Hanzo on the lips. "And this," he whispers, lips fluttering against Hanzo’s as he grinds in his lap again.

Hanzo bites his lip, an effort not to make too much noise as he enjoys the friction. Jesse’s weight is tantalising, and if he could, Hanzo would unzip his pants and fuck him here and now.

"Don't be shy," Jesse whispers, "You don't have to hide your moans."

"We should have stopped by a pharmacy," Hanzo groans.

"There's no need," Jesse replies, stopping. He waggles his eyebrows as he climbs off Hanzo and heads to the bedroom, and Hanzo uses the opportunity to adjust his erection straining uncomfortably and take a breath, a moment to hope that he did not sound too desperate. He hears Jesse's footsteps from behind him, so confident and sure of himself, and when Hanzo turns, Jesse has a condom in one hand, a bottle of lube in the other.

Hanzo scoffs. " _That_ is a bit presumptuous."

"Don't tell me you aren't prepared."

"Why would I need condoms and lube?"

"You should _always_ have condoms and lube. Where would we be if I didn't have these?"

"There is much we can do without penetration."

" _You_ made mention of stopping in a pharmacy.” He grins as he sing-songs, “You want sex."

Hanzo rolls his eyes.

"Say it," Jesse says, amused, as he stands over Hanzo. "Tell me you wanna fuck me."

Hanzo grabs Jesse's wrist, pulling him down into his lap again. He cups his face, feeling the stubble underneath his fingertips. "I want to fuck you."

"Been waitin' so long to hear you say that," Jesse groans. "Goddamn _knew_ this was the mission, too."

"Definitely presumptuous," Hanzo goads.

"If nothin' happened tonight, I was gonna take you out for breakfast, tell you how I felt."

Hanzo cocks an eyebrow. "Something you are yet to do."

Jesse opens his mouth and takes a breath, before closing it again. He shuffles in Hanzo’s lap, Hanzo fights the urge to roll his hips into him, considering he supposes that was unintentional. The lube and the condom are tossed onto the couch next to them, and Jesse’s eyes meet Hanzo’s. "I've had these feelings for you for a while now. Like, whenever you enter the room, I feel instantly happy. The times we train together, whether on the shooting range or in the gym, are the highlights of my day. I treasure every other moment we have together, just us, whether it’s kickin' your ass at chess, or sharing a post-mission celebratory cigar. Askin' you out has been on the tip of my tongue for so long now, so long that I can say _months_ and the only person I could talk to about it was your brother, who kept pushing me to do it... But the timing never seemed right."

"He has been pushing me to ask you out, too."

"Why did we hesitate?"

Hanzo inhales and exhales slowly. "I have thought myself incapable of being loved." He looks away, to the drawn curtains of the room. "Why would anyone love me after what I did?"

"Hey, now," Jesse whispers, cupping Hanzo's face. "Look at me." Hanzo looks at Jesse, blinking back the tears. "I thought we were done with the 'I don't deserve this' bullshit. _You_ said you were done when you got your hair done and the bridge piercing."

"I know. But..."

"No buts. I like you, Hanzo. I like you so goddamn much, you have no idea. What you did, that was your past. I've done some terrible shit in my past, that person I _was_ is not the person I am now. Just like you. You're not that person anymore."

Hanzo leans forward, embracing Jesse. He squeezes his eyes shut, fighting the urge to cry. There is no way he could allow himself to be so vulnerable in front of Jesse, not now.

And when there is a knock at the door, followed by "Room service," he squeezes Jesse even tighter.

"Might wanna get that," Jesse breathes. "I could use a _proper_ drink."

Hanzo sighs and reluctantly lets go of Jesse. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, shifting on the couch to get a look at the person at the door. Jesse has his phone in one hand as he answers, and it is the same room service person who dropped off their champagne. The server places their drinks on the benchtop, gives an "enjoy your evening," before he leaves.

Jesse nods as he places his phone on the counter, an acknowledgement that the server is clean, before pouring the sake from the jug into one cup, bringing it and his whiskey over. "Here you go," he says, handing it over before holding out his glass. A smile crosses his face as he says, "To not being stuck in the past, and living in the moment."

Hanzo clinks his cup against Jesse's and takes a sip. He hums as the alcohol rests on his tongue, the subtleness and complexity of the flavours are something he has missed from the absolutely poor quality sake he has been drinking.

"That good, huh?"

"Yes," Hanzo breathes, taking another sip. "It has been too long since I had sake this good."

"You really should indulge more."

"Indeed." Hanzo smirks, and he rakes his eyes up and down Jesse's body. Perhaps it is the alcohol he has had over the course of the night, or maybe the realisation that he is in a place where he does not need to hold back, but he drinks the rest of the sake in his cup, places it on the table, slides closer to Jesse and leans in, kissing him. He can taste the whiskey on his lips, his tongue, and he finds himself chasing it, deepening the kiss and sliding his hand to the back of Jesse's neck to keep him from moving away.

Jesse moans, then Hanzo hears the sound of glass clinking against glass before he finds himself pulled down as Jesse lies down. After adjusting to a comfortable position, Jesse's hands settle on Hanzo's back, sliding further and further down until they are on his ass, cupping and squeezing and pushing, and Hanzo gets the hint to grind against Jesse.

Moaning, Hanzo leans down to kiss Jesse again, a rushed, desperate mess of too much tongue before they find their rhythm. He can feel Jesse's hardness through his trousers, his own cock twitches in response as he chases the friction.

"We should move to the bedroom," Hanzo mumbles against Jesse's lips. "I would hate for us to dirty these suits."

"If I had it my way, I'd say fuck it and have you fuck me in it."

Hanzo pulls back, sitting up in Jesse's lap and unable to contain the smirk. "Suit kink?"

Jesse looks away and shrugs sheepishly.

"I have other suits back on the base. And when it is not pertinent to the mission, perhaps you can wear this again,” he traces his fingers along the lapels of the waistcoat, meeting in the middle, “and we can have some fun."

Jesse chuckles. “I like the way you think."

"Because it would be a lie if I did not think about fucking you while dressed like this."

"Suit kink?" Jesse throws back, smirking.

Hanzo raises an eyebrow, grabbing Jesse's hand, placing it on his knee and sliding it up slowly, revelling in the way Jesse inhales sharply when he realises what is happening. When his hand rests on Hanzo's crotch, he whispers, "You tell me."

"Fuck," Jesse groans, digging the heel of his palm against Hanzo's erection. His breath stutters, and Hanzo bites his lip again, trying in vain to keep his hips still, but ends up squirming in Jesse's lap. He decides to use it, grinding against him.

“Fuck it,” Jesse breathes, sliding his hand up to the button on Hanzo's pants. He looks at Hanzo for confirmation, and Hanzo just nods, too far gone to really care. Button undone and zipper lowered, Jesse pulls back the band on his underwear before sliding his hand in, and Hanzo bites back a moan at the feeling of Jesse's warm hand wrapped around his cock. He lifts his hips so Jesse can get it out, and when he does, Hanzo let's slip _that_ moan, long and low, partly due to the fact the pressure is relieved, mostly due to the fact that he has been absolutely _craving_ Jesse's hand around his cock since the morning.

“Beautiful,” Jesse breathes, pulling back the foreskin completely. He licks his lips, eyes meeting Hanzo's. “Let me blow you.”

A shiver wracks Hanzo's body, Jesse's voice was low and commanding, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock. “Bedroom,” is the only word that comes to mind, unsure if he's actually said it or thought it, but either way he climbs off Jesse, picks the condom and lube from the couch and walks to the bedroom.

He places them both on the nightstand, and before he can turn around, he feels Jesse pressed against him, the sake and whiskey are placed on the nightstand too before one arm is wrapped around his chest, his other wrapped around his cock, tugging slowly as Jesse kisses his neck.

Hanzo rests his hand on top of Jesse's, arches his back to grind against him again, but Jesse keeps him in place. “This is hardly fair,” he complains. “And we should take these off before we continue.”

“Shh,” Jesse says in Hanzo’s ear. “Let’s have this, then I’ll let you strip me.” He turns Hanzo’s head, and they meet in a kiss, slow and sensual. Jesse grinds against Hanzo again, and with his hand cupping Hanzo’s face, Hanzo can grind back.

Jesse dots kisses along Hanzo's cheek, all the way back to his neck. He then turns Hanzo around and pushes him onto the bed before falling to his knees, spreading Hanzo’s legs apart, shuffling in closer as he drags his hands up Hanzo’s thighs. Hanzo exhales, slow and ragged in anticipation as Jesse grabs him, tugging shallowly. Jesse leans in slowly, licking his lips again and as he wraps his lips around the head, he looks up and winks.

“Jesse,” Hanzo mewls, engulfed in the wet heat of Jesse’s mouth. He places his hand on the back of Jesse’s head, encouraging but not guiding him. He resists the urge to roll his hips, and fights the urge to close his eyes, instead watching as Jesse bobs up and down, tugging to match his sucking, twisting his hand ever so slightly with each upstroke. When his tongue swirls around the head, Hanzo moans again, and he grabs a handful of Jesse’s hair.

Jesse looks up at him, his cock still in his mouth and he winks again. Hanzo _feels_ that one, sending a jolt of pleasure right through his body. Another moan, and Jesse slides off completely, licking the flat of his tongue to his slit before pressing a kiss to the head and pulling away.

Hanzo slides his hand down, swiping his thumb along Jesse’s bottom spit-slicked lip. “Stand,” he orders, and Jesse complies, standing between Hanzo’s legs. Hanzo is met with Jesse’s bulge, his cock twitches at the sight of it. Sliding his hands up Jesse’s thighs, all the way up to his hips, Hanzo searches for his belt—which he cannot feel. What he does feel, though, are two clips, and Hanzo’s breath hitches as he looks up at Jesse.

Waggling his eyebrows, Jesse unbuttons the waistcoat, takes it off and Hanzo smiles.

“I was not aware you were wearing suspenders,” Hanzo breathes, tracing a finger up the length of the brown strap to his pectorals, before slipping his fingers inside the band, back down to his waist.

“Not wearin’ a belt, so I go suspenders.”

Hanzo’s eyes snap to meet Jesse’s. “Do you always wear them when wearing a suit?”

“Yup. You like?”

Hanzo exhales slowly as he looks back at the suspenders. “Love.”

“Old school,” Jesse chuckles.

“Classic.” Hanzo looks up at Jesse again, maintaining eye contact as he reaches up and slides the strap off his left shoulder, before doing the same with the other. They hang loosely from his waist, and Hanzo undoes the button and lowers the zipper, pulling down his pants and underwear slowly. He reveals inch by agonising inch of Jesse’s cock, he holds his breath as he finally sees the head, and it springs free from his clothing. He wraps his hand around Jesse, tugging shallowly, and Jesse moans, low and throaty on the upstroke, as a bead of pre-come pools at the slit.

Hanzo hums, licks the tip and tasting the salty-bitter taste on his tongue before encircling the glans and sliding up and down.

“Fuckin’ fuck…” Jesse moans, and Hanzo matches his sucking with his tugging, occasionally flicking the tip of his tongue against his slit and swirling around the head. Jesse moans again, his hands fall to Hanzo's shoulders as Hanzo feels Jesse shudder.

Hanzo looks up at him, coming off and using his spit as lubrication as he pulls languidly. “It would be wise if you undressed now, otherwise I will blow you to completion, and I do not want that.”

“That dirty talk,” Jesse says, voice breathy but still playful. He completely loosens his tie, dropping the fabric to the bed before unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his hairy chest, his abs, his navel and his happy trail. He takes off the shirt, folding that too and dropping it next to Hanzo.

Hanzo cannot resist, pressing his lips to Jesse’s abdomen. He is met with muscle, Jesse’s natural smell, a subtle muskiness which Hanzo falls in love with. It takes more effort than required to pull away, but he reminds himself that he will be able to smell him again in a manner of minutes. So he pulls away, enough that Jesse can kick off his shoes, pull down his pants and underwear. He takes the time to unclip the suspenders and fold up the pants, before taking the pile to one of the chairs. When he returns, he stands in front of Hanzo in all of his naked, muscled glory, and Hanzo has to fight the urge to take himself in his hand.

“Let me undress you.”

Hanzo nods, standing. He looks into Jesse’s eyes as he unbuttons and slides off his jacket,  placing it on the bed. The tie is loosened, left to drape around his neck as the shirt is unbuttoned and removed. With a smirk, Jesse walks away, and Hanzo watches on in confusion, only to smile when Jesse returns with the hanger, placing it on the bed. Jesse then kneels down, taking off Hanzo’s shoes and sliding off his socks, knee-walking up to the door to place the shoes heel-side to the wall. He knee-walks back, grinning as he pulls down Hanzo’s pants and underwear, Hanzo steps out of them and only then does he give in and take himself in his hand, watching as Jesse meticulously hangs the suit on the hanger before placing it in the wardrobe.

When Jesse returns, he wastes no time, placing his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders and pushing him down to the bed. The second Hanzo is sitting, Jesse climbs onto his lap again, cups Hanzo’s face and tips his head back, kissing him with burning desire. Jesse’s cock grazes against Hanzo's fist, and he opens his hand, their cocks slide together and Hanzo closes his hand around them. Hanzo swallows down Jesse’s moan, and Jesse breaks off the kiss, leaving Hanzo’s head spinning as he opens his eyes and looks up at Jesse.

Jesse glances at the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube and offering it to Hanzo. Hanzo reluctantly lets go of their cocks, takes it from Jesse's hand, and his hips buck when Jesse wraps his hand around them. Hanzo pours some lube onto his fingers, tosses it back onto the bed and with his clean hand, cups Jesse’s ass, spreading him before massaging a lubed finger around his entrance. He looks up at Jesse and Jesse looks back, eyes heavy-lidded and gives the smallest, subtle nods, and that is all the invitation Hanzo needs to push in.

Jesse moans, the grip around their cocks tighten. “More,” he says after a moment of languid penetration, and Hanzo massages his entrance with a second finger before pushing in. Hanzo watches Jesse’s face, his eyes flutter closed, his jaw hangs slack. It is not the best angle, but Jesse does not seem to mind.

Hanzo kisses Jesse’s chest, soft kisses with no intention of leaving any marks; he is content with just exploring his skin. That is, until Jesse starts to rock his hips. Hanzo moans against Jesse’s pectoral, and Jesse arches his back. Hanzo’s mouth dips to his nipple, Jesse moans again and Hanzo looks up, Jesse is nodding and that is all Hanzo needs to lick over the hardened bud, to kiss it, to suck on it.

Another moan, Jesse places a hand on the back of Hanzo’s head, keeping him in place. Hanzo tries his luck, grazing his teeth against the skin of his pectoral, earning him another moan from Jesse.

Hanzo shudders, edging closer and closer to orgasm. He could live on the sounds of Jesse’s moans, deep yet smooth, and is convinced that he could come untouched listening to him. It fills his head with countless scenarios, different positions and manoeuvres, to figure out what he likes and he does not.

He is drawn from his thoughts when he feels Jesse’s hand slide back to cup his face, and he finds his head tipped back again. Jesse leans down, presses his mouth to his and they kiss.  This one is slow, their tongues slide together in a sweet, gentle caress compared to the white-hot desire from earlier.

“Fuck me,” Jesse murmurs against Hanzo’s lips, and Hanzo can only nod, sliding his fingers out of Jesse and resting them on his ass as Jesse grabs the condom, opening it and rolling it down Hanzo’s cock.

Hanzo looks over his shoulder at the headboard, and Jesse climbs off him so Hanzo can slide over. He lubes up, keeps the bottle within reach, and Jesse, instead of taking the same position from earlier, turns his back to Hanzo. Hanzo smirks, sitting on his knees and placing his hands on Jesse’s hips. He massages his entrance with the tip of his cock, before sliding a hand down to line himself up, pulling Jesse down into his lap.

Jesse sinks down slowly, moaning, and Hanzo finds himself moaning too, relishing in the drag, the tightness. He slides one hand up, cupping Jesse’s pectoral, while Jesse presses his back to Hanzo’s chest, settling in his lap. He turns his head and Hanzo meets him, kissing him slow and sensual. Neither of them move, and Hanzo takes the moment to enjoy the feeling of being joined with Jesse, suddenly realising that this is something he has wanted for so long, that the concerns he had about Jesse not loving him were so foolish.

Hanzo looks into Jesse’s eyes when the kiss recedes, Jesse looks back through heavy-lidded eyes, a subtle nod and a stuttered exhale his only response when Hanzo rolls his hips. He keeps his thrusts slow, minute, looking at Jesse’s face, studying the way his eyes flutter with each thrust in, the way his jaw hangs slack.

Kissing his shoulder, his neck, Hanzo finds himself increasing the force and speed of his thrusts. Jesse moans, he brings his flesh hand up to cup the back of Hanzo’s head, his fingers comb through his hair. Hanzo slides his other hand down, grabbing Jesse’s cock and Jesse moans, grabbing a handful of hair.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, Han,” Jesse moans, hips jerking before falling into a rhythm and meeting Hanzo’s thrusts.

Hanzo moans against Jesse's shoulder, starting to lose control. He finds himself matching his thrusts with his tugging, quick little snaps of his hips as he drives into Jesse.

He sits, teetering on the edge of orgasm and ready to spill. Jesse mouths at his jaw, and Hanzo turns his head, meeting him in a kiss, and the second their tongues meet, Hanzo moans, pushing in as deep as he can into Jesse as he comes. Jesse pushes back just as hard, his lips fall slightly back to Hanzo's jaw, nipping at it gently as Hanzo rides out the high.

Opening his eyes and looking at Jesse with probably the silliest smile on his face, Hanzo slots their lips back together again, now focusing on getting Jesse to come. He tightens his grip and pulls fast, grinding against him for extra stimulation, kneading his pectoral with his other hand.

Jesse moans when Hanzo swipes his thumb over his nipple. Hanzo pinches it lightly to gauge a reaction, and he gets exactly what he wants: another moan. When he does it a second time, Jesse arches his back.

“I’m so close,” Jesse groans, tightening the grip on Hanzo’s hair, and Hanzo kisses and licks and sucks Jesse’s neck, just under his jaw. “Don’t stop, don’t… Fuck, Hanzo!” His hips buck, and Hanzo can feel Jesse tighten around him. He looks down in time to see Jesse come, catching it in the palm of his prosthetic.     

Hanzo kisses Jesse’s neck softly, the only sound now is Jesse's heavy breathing. Then, a low chuckle, and Hanzo looks at Jesse, noting his lazy smile, his heavy-lidded eyes.

“Fuckin’ needed that,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to Hanzo’s temple.

Smiling, Hanzo wraps his arms around Jesse, holding him tight. He ignores the fact that his ankles are aching, that his knees are protesting Jesse’s weight. He finally has Jesse in his arms, and he is not about to let him go.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” Jesse murmurs against Hanzo’s cheek, kissing it.

Groaning a little, Hanzo reluctantly lets go of Jesse and pulls out, kissing the nape of his neck before climbing off the bed and walking to the bathroom. He rolls off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before washing his hands and wetting a towel for Jesse. When he turns around, Jesse is standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms folded across his chest, grin on his face.

“Never ever gonna tire of the sight of you naked.”

Hanzo raises an eyebrow, looking Jesse up and down, eyes lingering on his half-hard cock. “Nor I you,” he breathes, handing the towel to Jesse; he tosses a tissue in the trash before taking the towel. Hanzo turns and walks to the toilet, relieving himself and giving Jesse some privacy to clean up. He flushes, rinses his hands and leaves the bathroom to ready the bed for sleep.

The toilet flushes and the taps run for a moment, and when Jesse returns, he digs through his travel bag, pulling out his tin of cigarillos. “Care to join me? Got smokes and forty euro whiskey I plan on enjoying.”

Hanzo nods, watching as Jesse grabs his glass and approaches the balcony completely naked. He opens the door, steps out, places his glass on the table before lighting up. He looks behind him as he takes a drag, eyes settling on Hanzo. “You comin’?”

“Are you going to get dressed?”

“Noone's gonna see us.” Jesse looks in front of him, waving his arm. “Got nothin’ but ocean in front of us.”

Hanzo bites his lip, debating whether to put on a pair of pants. Jesse looks back at the ocean, picks up his glass and leans against the railing, jutting his ass out, and Hanzo finds himself throwing caution to the wind, grabbing both the sake cup and jug and joining Jesse on the balcony absent clothing. He fills up his cup, places the jug on the table and leans against the railing.

“Thought you were gonna leave me here all on my own,” Jesse says, handing Hanzo the tin.

Hanzo shakes his head, plucks the cigarillo from Jesse’s lips and takes a drag as Jesse tosses the tin on the table. “I should not be surprised you also have an exhibitionism kink,” he says, exhaling the smoke.

“Is it really exhibitionism if I’m enjoying a smoke on my hotel balcony in the nude? I'm not hard and we’re not fucking.”

Raising an eyebrow and handing the cigarillo back to Jesse, Hanzo takes a drink from the cup. “Is that something you would be up for?”

Jesse turns to look at Hanzo so fast, it is a surprise he did not get whiplash. “Public sex kink.” He grins. “Why am I _not_ surprised?”

Hanzo hides his smile behind his cup. “You did not answer my question,” he says quietly, taking another sip.

“You wanna fuck out here?” Jesse scoffs. “Now?”

“I did not say now,” Hanzo says, sliding next to Jesse. Placing the cigarillo between his lips, Jesse drapes an arm over Hanzo's shoulders. “Perhaps when we are not on a mission when our lives are not still technically in danger.”

“I’d be up for it,” Jesse says with a chuckle, taking a drag. He looks at the tip as he exhales, holding out the cigarillo. “Too old for shame.”

Hanzo takes it, taking a drag himself. Looking at the sky, the cloudless night shows off the stars, glittering brightly against the black abyss. He smiles; Jesse is by far the first person he has been this comfortable around. Friends for almost two years, now lovers, and Hanzo is so happy that Jesse feels the same way, that there is no awkwardness between them. And best of all, Hanzo knows that Jesse will not judge him.

He exhales slowly as he looks at the ocean, watching the waves crash on the shore before sweeping back out to sea. He hands over the cigarillo, doing a double-take when he realises Jesse was looking at him. “What?”

“You do this thing…” Jesse smiles softens and he looks away, taking a sip of whiskey. “Ain’t nothin’.”

“No, go on. I am interested in this ‘thing’ I do.”

Jesse chuckles, turns to face Hanzo. “When you know you’ve won, you do the cutest little smile.”

“I smile when I win. Everyone does, do they not?”

“Naw, there’s smiling, and there’s what you do. It’s like a little quirk of your lips, like you’ve schooled yourself not to smile, but it slips through.”

“One of my tells?”

“Yup.”

“I will have to remember that.”

“I’m willin’ to bet it’s involuntary.” Jesse takes another sip of whiskey. “There’s another one, y’know. Your tell for anger...”

Hanzo looks at Jesse, eyebrow raised.

“And ah…” he looks into his glass, “As I have just discovered, a tell for pleasure, too.” His eyes meet Hanzo's, and he smiles.

Hanzo frowns. “You are joking.” He takes a sip of sake, searching Jesse’s face and waiting for the laugh, the ‘yep, you got me’, but it does not come, and Hanzo shrinks down a little.

“Your eyes.”

“What about my eyes.”

“They flicker blue.”

“They do not.”

“What do you think Moira meant when she said 'there you are' when she looked into your eyes. You got so frustrated you _showed_ her.”

“How blue?”

“Barely noticeable. You gotta know it's there, you gotta be lookin’ into your eyes, or you'll miss it.”

Hanzo opens his mouth to speak, and when nothing comes out, he drinks the rest of his sake. “I was not aware I was doing this.”

“Wouldn’t reckon so. The dragons?”

“I suppose…” Hanzo looks at Jesse, and he has a smug smile on his face.

“There’s more.”

Hanzo shrinks down a little more.

“You give off static electricity.”

“I do not,” Hanzo scoffs. _This_ has to be a joke, but like before, the punchline does not come.

“You do.”

“I am sure I would be aware of I gave off static electricity.” Then a pang of anxiety strikes Hanzo, his eyes fall to Jesse's lower abdomen. “I did not… shock you, did I?”

Jesse’s eyes flit to Hanzo’s cock, then back up again. “No! God no, you’re fine. Just your eyes... they flickered blue in that same way when you’re angry.”

Hanzo covers his face with his hand. “I was not aware of any of this.”

“Well I’m guessin’ you ain’t the type to look someone in the eye when you’re fucking them, not unless they mean somethin’ to you, and you kill anyone else who might see it, so that’s not a surprise.”

“I suppose.”

“It’s fine, Hanzo, really. It’s how I knew to shut you down. We didn’ need the good folks of Monaco seein’ your dragons.”

Hanzo only nods, looking into his empty cup and pouring himself more. “I think the worst thing about this is that I am not able to control it.”

“Yup. That’s what makes it easy for me.”

Hanzo huffs a laugh, pushing Jesse away. “Not a word of this to anyone.”

“Don’t want me tellin’ the base that your dick’s a lightning rod and you give me little electric shocks with it?” he says with the waggle of his eyebrows.

“Jesse! Not. A. Word!”

“Gonna tell ‘em that having sex with you takes it to the next level, that I’ll never be able to—or want to—have sex with anyone else ever again.”

Trying to be serious but fighting a tide of laughter, Hanzo places a hand on Jesse's shoulder. “McCree, I am not afraid to push you off this balcony and call it an accident.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jesse says, wrapping an arm around Hanzo's waist, cupping his jaw with the other and tipping his head back. “You like me too damn much to do that, Shimada.” He presses his lips to Hanzo’s and they kiss, slow and gentle as their tongues dance together.

Hanzo hums, sliding his hand down onto Jesse’s ass and grabbing a handful of muscle. “You are lucky I like you,” he murmurs.

“Reckon so,” Jesse breathes, taking a step back and finishing the last of his whiskey. He takes a final drag of the cigarillo, stubbing it out on the ashtray. “Bed?”

Hanzo nods, finishing the last of his sake. He picks up the jug, leading Jesse inside and placing the ceramic on the nightstand before climbing in. Jesse joins him, and the second he is in the bed, Hanzo is attached to him like an octopus, leg nestled between his and arm draped over his chest, _now_ not going to let him go.

“Didn’t think you’d be a cuddler.”

“Something I reserve for those I have feelings for.” Hanzo’s eyes meet Jesse’s and he raises an eyebrow. “You are part of an exclusive list.”

Jesse chuckles. “Got feelings for you too,” he murmurs. “Gonna take you out for a nice breakfast tomorrow. There’s a place you’ll love.”

“I look forward to it,” Hanzo replies quickly, ending the statement with a long, loud yawn.

“You sound about as tired as I feel,” Jesse whispers. He kisses Hanzo’s forehead. “‘Night, Han.”

With one final deep breath, taking in Jesse's natural smell, Hanzo murmurs, “Good night.”


	6. Lost Without You

Hanzo wakes, overheating again. He can feel Jesse pressed against his back again, and this time, Hanzo does not hesitate to move, slipping his hand above the blanket to weave his fingers between Jesse’s. The action does have the unfortunate result of waking him, and Hanzo cannot help but smile as Jesse repeats the actions of the morning previous, humming and pressing his lips to his shoulder. Except this time he does not stop at one kiss, sliding his mouth from his shoulder to his neck.

“Good morning,” Hanzo says, stretching his neck to give Jesse more space.

“Mornin’,” Jesse murmurs against Hanzo’s skin. “Sleep well?”

“I did. You?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jesse settles back down, Hanzo can feel him press his forehead to the nape of his neck. “Though I shouldn't have had that champagne. Head’s pounding.”

Hanzo rolls onto his back, cupping Jesse's face. “Can I get you some aspirin?”

“Naw. Just wanna cuddle.”

Hanzo extends his arm behind Jesse's head, and Jesse smiles, resting his head on Hanzo's shoulder and draping his leg between Hanzo's. He can feel Jesse's erection against his hip, and he smiles, kissing the top of Jesse's head. He does not expect more sex, given Jesse has a headache, and to be honest he can feel a subtle pounding behind his eyes. It is the most he has had to drink in a long time, and it seems his body has reset itself.

Ignoring that, Hanzo enjoys the moment, the warm embrace and soft sound of Jesse's breathing for all of the thirty seconds it lasts for before his phone vibrates on the nightstand.

Jesse groans. “Ignore it,” he mumbles, holding Hanzo tighter than before.

“You know we cannot,” Hanzo sighs, reaching for it. The incoming call is from Genji, and he answers, placing it on loudspeaker. “What?” Hanzo says, tone clipped.

“ _I'm at the door and I have breakfast._ ”

“We were going to go out for breakfast.”

“ _No can do. Get decent and let me in._ ”

Hanzo looks at Jesse and his heart aches.

“We are decent,” Jesse answers before Hanzo has the chance.

There is a pause, then, “ _I_ _can't see you._ ” He must have peered through the peephole. “ _You're totally in bed, aren't you?_ ”

“It's eight in the fucking morning, Genji, where else would we be?” Jesse retorts.

 _“Get. Decent. And. Let. Me. In. The longer you take will only solidify in my mind that you are currently fucking._ ”

“If we were fucking,” Jesse says slowly, “we would not have answered the phone. And if we did, we wouldn't be quiet about it.”

 _"Thanks for that mental image._ _Hurry up and come, breakfast's getting cold._ ”

Hanzo sighs, ending the call. He kisses Jesse's head again. “I do not want to move,” he murmurs against his hairline.

“Me neither,” Jesse groans, sitting up. He presses his fingers to his temple. “Gonna take a piss, take some aspirin, drink a whole lotta water. Hopefully whatever Genji brought is greasy.” He looks at Hanzo and smiles. “Y’don’t mind lettin’ him in?”

“Of course not,” Hanzo replies, leaning forward and kissing Jesse's forehead. “Take all the time you need. Can I make you coffee?”

“Please,” Jesse whispers, cupping Hanzo's face. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Your brother is lucky I have this headache, otherwise I _would_ be fucking you right now.”

Hanzo groans, cupping Jesse’s face and dragging his fingernails through his stubble. “We will have to raincheck on that.”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” Jesse breathes, closing the distance between them, kissing slow and sensual. The kiss is broken when Hanzo’s phone vibrates again, and Jesse pulls away, flicking the blankets off them. “Better get him before he breaks in and sees us like this.”

Hanzo looks from Jesse’s erection to his own. “At least you get to hide in the bathroom,” he murmurs, standing up and grabbing a fresh pair of underwear and sweatpants from the suitcase. He slides them on, shoving his hand in the pocket to keep his erection hidden.

“Can’t even tell,” Jesse croons.

“Good,” Hanzo breathes. “Please call out if you need assistance.”

“Han, it’s just a hangover," Jesse deadpans. "I’ll be fine.”

Hanzo smiles, giving Jesse a nod before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. He then huffs when he hears the impatient knock at the door.

“I brought you breakfast, and _this_ is how you treat me?” Genji says. “Making me wait while you finish doing _who knows what?_ ”

“I am coming,” Hanzo says, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t need that announcement, thanks!”

Taking a breath and holding it, Hanzo stares at the door, taking a moment to breathe, to relax his face and absolutely _push_ the thought out of punching Genji out of his mind. With his exhale, and taking his hand out of his pocket considering Genji is actually the perfect mood-killer, he opens the door, and Genji’s grinning face meets him.

“Hi anija!” he says excitedly, and Hanzo looks at Genji flatly, standing aside. “Didn’t even bother to put on a shirt, _that’s_ saying something!”

Frowning, Hanzo does in fact _now_ realise that he neglected to put on a t-shirt. He ignores it though, closing the door behind Genji and turning on the coffee machine. “So why _are_ you here?”

“There has been a change of plans,” Genji says, sitting at the dining table. He unpacks three small boxes, placing them in front of him and two empty seats. “Your flight has been moved to ten a.m., we believe getting you out of here sooner rather than later is better.”

“Probably a good idea,” Hanzo murmurs, turning his attention to the coffee machine now that it has stopped its warm up, placing the pod in and pressing start. “Coffee?”

“Yep, thanks.”

There is a moment of silence, the only sound is from the coffee machine as it slowly drips into the cup below. Hanzo supposes that it is not unexpected that their stay is cut short, and honestly given their ‘talk’ with Moira, getting out of Monaco and sparing more innocent people from any retaliation is for the best. Watching the final drop of coffee fall into the mug, Hanzo walks the cup to Genji placing it in front of him.

“Thanks,” he says absently, buried in his phone, and Hanzo walks back into the kitchen to prepare the next cup.

“So, you and Jesse.”

Hanzo inhales and exhales slowly, leaning against the bench. “What about us?”

“You _know_ what. We all heard you.”

“I needed to stop Jesse from doing something foolish,” Hanzo breathes, watching as the coffee drips into the cup. “It was ideally not what I wanted to do or even say, but it was the only thing that came to mind.”

“And we saw what happened next—”

“And it was a damn fine first kiss, if you ask me.”

Hanzo looks at Jesse standing in the doorway and he smiles, picking up the coffee and handing it to Jesse.

“Thanks, darlin’,” Jesse breathes, wrapping his arm around Hanzo’s waist and pecking him on the lips.

Hanzo freezes.

When his brain finally catches up, he kisses back. He supposes that it is not to be unexpected that he show public displays of affection, but perhaps he will mention to Jesse to keep things between themselves for the time being.

“Was what, our third attempt at a kiss?” Jesse says when Hanzo pulls away. “Thought you were gonna kiss me before you went to your seat before the show, then there was the moment before I heard Moira. Ain’t countin’ the one we did to avoid her, that wasn’t a kiss.”

“If you pressed your faces together, it was a kiss,” Genji says dryly.

“Had no feelings behind it. It was empty.”

Hanzo nods, making his way back into the kitchen to prepare his cup of coffee. He watches as Jesse sits down next to Genji, opening the box.

“Pancakes!” he exclaims with the excitement of a child. “Okay, Han, another raincheck. I’ll take you out to breakfast another time.”

“Is that—” Genji leans over, pulling down the collar of Jesse’s shirt. “A hickey. That is a hickey.”

“Yup,” Jesse chuckles, glancing at Hanzo.

Hanzo quickly turns his attention to the coffee, an attempt to hide his smile and his embarrassment; he did not realise that he had marked Jesse.

“So it’s happened, then?”

“That is for us to know,” Hanzo says as he approaches, sitting in the spare seat, “and for you to guess.” He looks at Jesse who nods back, and his eyes fall to the hickey which is very clearly visible high up on his neck. Why Genji pulled his collar down makes no sense.

It also means that it will not be hidden when he is dressed in his usual clothes on base.

“Well, all I can say is _fucking finally!_ ” Genji throws his hands up in exasperation. “And now I hope that you leave _me_ out of it.”

“You’ll get bored, then you’ll be beggin’ us for gossip.” Jesse looks at Hanzo and grins. “And I don’t think Hanzo is one for kissin’ and tellin’.”

“I am not,” Hanzo confirms, glaring at Genji. “Our personal lives are none of your concern.”

“My brother is sleeping with my best friend. I would say that qualifies as ‘my concern’.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes and looks at Jesse. “We are on a flight back to Gibraltar at ten a.m.”

Jesse nods, cutting into his pancakes, stabbing into the portion with his fork. “Glad we got all our sightseeing done.” He shovels it into his mouth, chews and swallows. “Shame ‘bout breakfast though.”

“We will just have to come back another time,” Hanzo says, smirking. “Reo enjoyed the city very much.”

Jesse grins. “Did he now?”

Hanzo winks at Jesse, opening his box and seeing pancakes with strawberries and chocolate sauce. He looks at Genji to say thank you but is greeted with a look of disgust. “What?”

“I sincerely hope that what happened between the two of you was between _you_ and not some weird roleplay between your covers.”

“No need to roleplay when we were pretty much ourselves anyway.”

“Okay, no, I do not want to hear any more,” Genji says, wrinkling his nose. “Hurry up and eat, there is not much time to pack and go.”

They eat in relative silence from then on, they pack their gear and check out of the hotel with Genji in tow. The flight leaves an hour later, Genji and Lena sitting two seats back. Hanzo holds Jesse’s hand the entire way back, in the car when Lúcio picks them up, and all the way to the debriefing.

“Agents,” Winston greets when they enter the briefing room. Ana gives a nod, and Winston gestures to the empty seats with the extension of his hand. “I apologise for cutting the mission short, but we decided the best thing was to make sure you were out of there.”

“Were we in danger?” Hanzo asks.

“No,” Winston replies, sitting down with a sigh. “But Moira never left Monte Carlo, and with your covers’ blown, we could not risk you being seen. We have eyes on her, on Maximilien and Rinaldi, especially now that we know there is _some_ collaboration happening between them.”

“Couldn’t find anything?” Jesse asks.

“Not one scrap of evidence linking Rinaldi to Talon,” Ana answers. “It is too clean.”

“‘Specially since Rinaldi did refer to Max as his ‘guest of honour’,” Jesse says, rubbing his chin. He looks at Winston. “Guess keepin’ tabs on them is all we can do for now.”

“Yes,” Winston says, nodding. “If anything comes up, the two of you have the lead on this mission.”

Jese looks at Hanzo and smirks. “We can do that.”

“Good job with the rest of the mission, and thank you for not disobeying my order to stand down,” Winston adds.

“Well ah,” Jesse starts, looking at Hanzo, grinning as he grabs Hanzo’s shoulder and gives it a firm squeeze, “Hanzo here was quite persuasive.”

Hanzo can feel the heat creep up to his face, and he looks from Ana, grinning smugly, to Winston who looks away the moment Hanzo makes eye contact.

“Yes, well,” Winston says, straightening his tablet, “don’t let it interfere with your work and I’ll allow it.”

Hanzo nods, and Jesse squeezes his shoulder again. “Here that, Han, we got approval from the big guy. It’s official!”

 _Official_ , Hanzo repeats in his mind. He is officially dating Jesse.

Jesse is his boyfriend.

Hanzo looks at Jesse and smiles, before turning his attention to Winston. “There will be no problems.”

“Good,” Winston replies quickly, clearing his throat. “Fareeha is still in Monte Carlo, helping police with their enquiries. While the mission is done on our end, she will be able to tell us who at the event was working with Talon, and she will be our eyes on Moira, Maximilien and Rinaldi.”

“Do Helix know she’s workin’ for us still?”

“No,” Ana answers. “The less they know, the better. Helix is conducting its own investigation with everyone on the ground, in case anyone is a double agent.”

“Good thing Ree is good at playing Helix,” Jesse says with a chuckle. “Now we wait for movement from them, I guess.”

“Indeed,” Winston sighs. “If there is nothing further to add to your official reports, then we are done here.”

“Everythin’ I’ve got to say is in the report.”

“And I have nothing further to add,” Hanzo replies.

“Very well,” Winston says, looking between them. “Dismissed.”

* * *

If Hanzo had to pick a word to describe his current mood, it would be ‘abysmal’.

On what is likely going to be his third sleepless night since the mission, he finds himself tossing and turning in his bed—his _empty_ bed—with its stiff, starchy sheets and scratchy blanket. And on this third sleepless night, he vows to buy proper bedding in the morning: sheets with an actual thread count and a good, heavy duvet.

But he _knows_ that is not what is bothering him.

He misses Jesse.

While his days with Jesse have been more enjoyable now than they have ever been, filled with playful touching, gentle kisses and stringing the rest of the team along when they discussed the nature of their relationship, the nights have been the worst.

The first night, he drummed it down to puppy love. He had spent every waking moment with Jesse after the briefing before retreating to their own quarters when they got tired. He missed Jesse, but reminded himself that he would see Jesse in the morning.

The second night, he knew it was more. He wanted Jesse’s warmth, to be wrapped in his strong arms, to smell his smell. Once again, he reminded himself that he would see Jesse in the morning, and that grabbing his pillow and rushing to Jesse’s quarters to be in his arms is childish, and to be completely honest, desperate.

Tonight, though, after three days of running on catnaps and more coffee than anyone has a right to drink, he throws all of that out of the window. He will buy his damn sheets in the morning, and he will see Jesse now.

Throwing the blankets off him, he slides on the pair of sweatpants and the t-shirt draped over his work chair before grabbing his pillow, tucking it under his arm and heading for his door.  

He keeps his head down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other before the rational part of his brain tries to stop him and change his mind.

So when the door slides open and he barrels through, he is completely startled when he crashes into something solid when there should only be open corridor.

“Whoa there!” Strong hands fall onto his shoulders. “Someone’s in a hurry!”

Face pressed to Jesse’s chest and unable to move thanks to Jesse’s grip, Hanzo looks up, seeing Jesse grinning above him. “To see you.”

“Funny that,” Jesse says, dropping his hands to Hanzo’s back, holding him close. “That’s why I’m here.”

“I figured,” Hanzo chuckles. He brings his arms up to embrace Jesse. “I have been unable to sleep, and figured I would join you in your bed.”

“Really now?”

Hanzo looks up at Jesse, scoffs when he waggles his eyebrows and hits him in the back with the pillow. “I want your company. Stop thinking with your cock.”

“Shot down,” Jesse says with a chuckle. He kisses Hanzo’s head. “I’ve been struggling with sleep too, actually. Thought it was just the change from sleeping in a bed with nice sheets to the sorry excuse we have, but realised I missed you next to me.”

Hanzo closes his eyes and really breathes in Jesse’s smell; the mix of his natural smell and feint, stale smoke. “I missed you too.”

“I was hemmin’ and hawin’ for a good hour before I left my room, and another ten minutes out here, pacing up and down the corridor. Didn’t wanna come across as too desperate.”

“It is not desperate,” Hanzo says, resting his chin on Jesse’s chest as he looks up at him. “I believed we made a toast to live in the moment?”

“That we did.” Jesse inhales and exhales slowly, his eyes twinkle a little and his smile softens. “Reckon we can go inside?”

“Of course,” Hanzo says, stepping away when Jesse’s grip loosens. He holds his pillow close to his chest as he stands to the side, letting Jesse in. Closing the door behind him and turning on the light above the bed, dimly illuminating the room, Hanzo sets the pillow down and sits on the edge of the bed. He looks at Jesse and pats the spot beside him, prompting him to sit.

Jesse grabs his hand, weaves his fingers between Hanzo’s before bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of his hand. “Y’know how I said that I liked you a lot? I’d like to take back that statement.”

Hanzo frowns, intakes a bit of air and holds it when Jesse presses two fingers to his lips.

“I’d like to say instead…” Jesse pauses, and the silence just drags on. He chuckles, his eyes sparkle in the low light before he takes a deep breath, lets it all out in a rush of air and says, “I love you.”

Unable to contain the smile, Hanzo opens his mouth to speak, to tell Jesse how he feels about him but stops when Jesse presses his fingers harder to his lips, eyebrow cocked.

“Not done, sweetheart.” Hanzo scowls, and Jesse only grins, pulling back his hand. “If this is you bein’ threatening, then you gotta wipe that smile off your face.”

Hanzo raises an eyebrow, puts on what he hopes is a neutral face and gestures for Jesse to continue with the wave of his hand. If the man who is telling him to be silent _loves_ him, he can play along in his own snarky way.

Jesse’s smile softens, and he takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ve been thinkin’ of sayin’ that for the longest time. Goin’ from being by your side twenty-four-seven to having our own rooms again, I realised I was lost without you. I’m miserable when you’re not within arm’s reach.” Jesse pauses, kisses the back of Hanzo’s hand again before holding it between both of his, and Hanzo watches on, stunned by the admission. “I wanted to take this slow, to wait for the right moment, but... Fuck, Hanzo, I couldn’t keep it in. I wanna just scream it from the rooftops, let every damn person know that I love you. So fuckin’ much.”

Hanzo’s vision blurs from tears, he is certain he is shaking and realises that there is too much space between them. He climbs into Jesse’s lap, cups his face and kisses him softly, tenderly. “I love you too,” he whispers against Jesse’s lips.

Jesse runs his fingers through Hanzo’s hair. “And I even love you with your short hair.”

Hanzo chokes a laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “You did not seem happy about the change.”

“Your hair was perfect. I wanted nothin’ more than to play with it. Run my fingers through it.” He reaches up, brushes Hanzo’s hair aside. “Sweep it behind your ear.”

“It will grow back.”

“But that’s gonna take months.”

“Impatient,” Hanzo goads, smirking. He looks at the stubble on Jesse’s cheeks and jawline, feeling the hair under his fingertips, dragging his nails through it. “Can I convince you to maintain this look?”

“Sweetness, I’ll do anythin’ to see that smile on your face.”

Hanzo smiles, leans in and kisses Jesse softly.

“As long as it don’t involve _actually_ shaving, ‘cause I can’t be bothered maintaining a clean-shaven look.”

“Some growth.”

“Done.”

Hanzo’s eyes meet Jesse’s and he smiles softly. The man in his arms is his boyfriend, the man who _loves_ him, and Hanzo can say with all of his heart that he loves him too. He leans in, holding Jesse tight and never wanting to let him go. But as the high from Jesse’s words start to fall off, he feels a sudden bone-aching tiredness. He pulls away, presses a kiss to Jesse’s forehead before looking at the pillow, then flitting back to Jesse. “Lie with me?”

Jesse nods, and Hanzo climbs off him, taking off his shirt but leaving his sweats on. Jesse does the same, draping his shirt on top of Hanzo’s and climbing into bed. Given the narrow cots, the only viable way for them to sleep is on their sides, and Hanzo lies with his back to Jesse.

Jesse slides in close, chest pressed to Hanzo’s back and arm draped over his waist. Hanzo hums when Jesse presses a kiss to Hanzo’s shoulder, Hanzo weaves his fingers between Jesse’s and he cannot contain the smile when Jesse presses his forehead to the nape of his neck.

“‘Night, sweetness.”

“Good night, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, folks! As I said at the start, this fic was an absolute pleasure to write, and I hoped you enjoyed reading it just as much. 
> 
> I'll link the art into the fic as soon as Nurt posts it, but you'll see it on Tumblr first!
> 
> I'll see you out there with something new soon!  
> \--Chillie.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to see the gorgeous artwork as it's posted by Nurt? I'll be reblogging it on [Tumblr](https://chilliebean5.tumblr.com/) when it's live!


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